


The Princess and the Merc

by VvardenfellVixen



Series: The Necromancer and the Thief [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Action, Adventure & Romance, Asshole Bigot High Elf, Dunmer - Freeform, Elf Slash Fic, Erotica, F/M, Fantasy, Gay Dunmer, Gay Sex, Heterosexual Sex, Love, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Romance, Rough Sex, Self-Indulgent, Sex, Slash, Smut, Some Humor, easy reading, just for fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:21:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 59,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23204626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VvardenfellVixen/pseuds/VvardenfellVixen
Summary: If you haven't read part oneThe Necromancer and the Thief, I suggest going through to get acquainted with Vendras and Romlyn because they are a precious power couple and are my reason for getting into writing. I can't believe how much fun this has been and I'm glad to finally share something I enjoy with the public. 💜I'm doing this one a little differently. It is a bit of a spin off sequel. As the title suggests it will not focus on Vendras and Romlyn directly, but they are still an integral part of the story. Character perspectives will jump around a bit to delve into new character arcs, so hopefully I did a decent job segueing into them.I used Elder Scrolls wikis to help with language and Frankenstein'd some stuff to make them contextually sound.I also chose to be a little more open and casual with the sex. Outside of dialogue, I don't like to write it in a vulgar way unless the situation calls for it.As always, don't hesitate to alert me of inconsistencies, spelling, or syntax errors. I get carried away, sometimes, and I'm the only one proofreading.💖 I also worked really hard to concoct some sentences in Dunmeris, so if you want to know what someone is saying, just quote them for me in the comments for the respective chapter and I'll happily translate. 💖
Relationships: Teldryn Sero/Original Female Character, Vendras Volur (original male character)/Romlyn Dreth
Series: The Necromancer and the Thief [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1668292
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read part one **[The Necromancer and the Thief](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22575955/chapters/53949067)** , I suggest going through to get acquainted with Vendras and Romlyn because they are a precious power couple and are my reason for getting into writing. I can't believe how much fun this has been and I'm glad to finally share something I enjoy with the public. 💜
> 
> I'm doing this one a little differently. It is a bit of a spin off sequel. As the title suggests it will not focus on Vendras and Romlyn directly, but they are still an integral part of the story. Character perspectives will jump around a bit to delve into new character arcs, so hopefully I did a decent job segueing into them. 
> 
> I used Elder Scrolls wikis to help with language and Frankenstein'd some stuff to make them contextually sound. 
> 
> I also chose to be a little more open and casual with the sex. Outside of dialogue, I don't like to write it in a vulgar way unless the situation calls for it. 
> 
> As always, don't hesitate to alert me of inconsistencies, spelling, or syntax errors. I get carried away, sometimes, and I'm the only one proofreading.
> 
> 💖 I also worked really hard to concoct some sentences in Dunmeris, so if you want to know what someone is saying, just quote them for me in the comments for the respective chapter and I'll happily translate. 💖

Orange and yellow tongues licked at the logs in the fireplace, the air rife with the scent of wood smoke and the delicious aromas of freshly baked bread and beef stew. It was nearly lunch time.  
  
Huddled up on a finely upholstered armchair nearby sat Romlyn Volur-Dreth with his legs crisscrossed, contently sipping hot spiced cider and flipping through the pages of a book his husband had given him as a gift.  
  
Romlyn placed the book aside to check the stew, and Vendras Volur-Dreth entered through the door of Hjerim Hall just in time to have a fresh meal. He had a delightfully enthusiastic smile upon his smooth, attractive ashen face, ruby Dunmer eyes beaming. He greeted his husband with a quick peck on the lips and a snug embrace of pure love.  
  
"You must have smelled the stew," Romlyn smiled warmly.  
  
"Alluring as always," Vendras said. "I'm surprised we don't have beggars at our doorstep."  
  
"So what were you up to all morning?" Romlyn ladled stew into two glazed bowls and placed them on the dining room table.  
  
"Actually, I have a surprise for you."  
  
Romlyn paused in his tracks. "Oh?"  
  
Vendras continued. "I've been making arrangements with the steward and the ship captain down at the docks. I know you have said you were feeling a little homesick so what do you say about a trip to Raven Rock for our honeymoon?"  
  
"Oh, Ven that's lovely!" he spouted excitedly. Although the excitement within him subsided when he realized they had no other choice but to sail to Solstheim. He didn't have the easiest experience with boats and open water.  
  
"What's wrong?" Vendras asked.  
  
"What? Nothing! I can't wait!" he hugged his husband tightly. He longed for a little slice of Morrowind but dreaded the trip. "How long have you been planning this?"  
  
Vendras grinned. "Since the morning of the 28th of Frostfall." He kissed him seductively.  
  
"Hard to believe it's been five months since the wedding already."  
  
"I know. It took a lot of time to get the letters out to Raven Rock, but I've been informed by Councilor Morvayn that there is a place for rent there and he's reserved it for us. We don't even have to stay at an inn, isn't that wonderful?"  
  
"You're too good to me, Ven. I really look forward to it." He tried his best not to picture the bounding waves. His stomach somersaulted and his mouth got salty just thinking about it.  
  
Vendras slurped a bite of soup from his spoon. "Now that I know for sure, I'll let Torbjorn know you said yes, finalize it, and we'll have a few days to pack our belongings. I love you so much, Romlyn. We really need this getaway. I truly look forward to finally learning about our culture."  
  
Vendras had never once set foot in Morrowind. He was born in Cyrodiil and fled to Skyrim after a tragedy when he was very young, and ever since has raised himself on the Nordic way of life. While the somewhat independent island of Solstheim was not officially part of the provinces of Skyrim or Morrowind, many Dunmer settled there after the eruption of the Red Mountain of Vvardenfell, which can be seen off the coast of Solstheim billowing ash into the sky. It wasn't much, but it was the best he could afford even after he had pawned Brand-Shei's enchanted dagger, an item he'd obtained during an unfortunate mishap. He hoped the trip would benefit them both after all they'd been through in the last year. It was nice to finally be able to settle and relax for once. Life finally felt normal.  
  
Vendras enjoyed the last bit of warmth of his stew as he drank the remaining broth. Married life was nice. Much nicer than he'd ever imagined. He always had a full belly and a warm lover in his bed every night. It was unimaginable how he'd ever spent his days isolating himself as he did. Romlyn helped open him up to the world. There was a lot more to life than wallowing in self pity and regret. They were growing together and it was enpowering.  
  
Romlyn had cleaned up his act as well. Once upon a time he didn't care who he slept with or how many, and he formerly had a successful side business of selling bootlegged mead he stole from his former employer--at least until he got caught. But with the help of Vendras and his connections, none of whom truly had a real reason to aid and abet a criminal, he was absolved of his transgressions. He knew he didn't deserve the kindness, but he never wanted to let Vendras down again, especially after the serious turn both their lives took while on the run. Anyone else would have turned him in. It was a humbling experience, indeed.  
  
He didn't even drink as often, as he found the company of Vendras to be far more entertaining sober (though making love while tipsy was still a fun pastime for him). When the pair were not working their new and decent paying jobs down at the shipping docks for the Shatter-Shield family, Romlyn had taken quite a shine to learning more about magic and spells and honing his existing talents.

***  
  
"When my teacher is this handsome, I just can't look away."  
  
Vendras rolled his eyes, even though he didn't actually mind the constant compliments from his amorous husband. "Let's focus please. I want you to summon a Flame Atronach. Remember to channel that same innermost power like when you use your flames."  
  
Romlyn concentrated intensely and raised his hand before him, pointing to the open space they made after moving the furniture to the side so he could practice in a wider area. A golden light shot from his hand and with a whirring sound emerged a delicately feminine flaming figure. Though, something seemed off.  
  
The creature shrieked suddenly and began to run rampant, the heat emanating from her body charred wood and fabrics as she angrily tossed objects around the room. Whatever the case was, she was furious that she'd been brought to the mortal plane. A rumble resounded within her core like a volcano about to erupt.  
  
Vendras knew the signs. The atronach was about to self destruct. He grabbed Romlyn and shielded him with his body behind the meager cover of the the toppled dining table. He gritted his teeth and swiftly cast a banishing spell before any catastrophic damage was done by the rogue Daedric being. She was sent back to the plane of Oblivion in a flash. "Er...perhaps you should stick to just Destruction magic. It suits you."  
  
"Haha, very funny." Romlyn rose to his feet and dusted himself off.  
  
"They're usually very obedient and cooperative," Vendras scratched his head in confusion. "I've never seen one behave in such a hysterical manner. Perhaps I've pushed you ahead too quickly? We'll try conjuring smaller things." Unperturbed by the terrible disarray within his house, he continued with the lesson. "Let's try summoning a familiar."  
  
Though he dreaded the outcome, Romlyn tried again. It was the same concept but with a different thought in his mind. He concentrated, light escaped his palm yet again and from the deepest depths of Oblivion emerged a...mudcrab.  
  
Vendras could not contain a hearty fit of laughter at the sight of the pitiful spectral crustacean.  
  
Romlyn stared at it with a defeated expression. It tried to cozy up to him, circling his legs and clicking its claws desperately for his attention. He ignored it until it faded back to Oblivion on its own and he sighed in frustration, palm to his face.  
  
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to laugh. It's cute."  
  
"Cute isn't gonna get me out of a tight spot, is it?" Romlyn huffed in vexation.  
  
Vendras slipped his arms around his waist and kissed him. "You are vicious enough with a dagger."  
  
The catastrophic condition of the house finally set in for him. "I suppose that wraps up lessons for today. Don't worry my dear. You're progressing very quickly. Some of my fellow classmates at the college couldn't produce anything but pocket lint."  
  
Romlyn knew only the best of the best were even allowed to set foot into the College of Winterhold, but he accepted the compliment anyway.  
  
"Don't fret, my dear. It takes time and practice. No one is born with these skills. You're very willing to learn and that's all that matters. You'll get it." He kissed his brow.

***

Vendras added his used bowl to the dirty dish pile and dabbed his lips with a napkin. "I'm going to finish up some things for our trip. I love you so much. I can't wait!" The excitable elf hurried out of the house yet again, nearly forgetting to kiss Romlyn goodbye.

Romlyn shared his enthusiasm, but the boat ride loomed over him like a shadow.


	2. Chapter 2

Vendras handed Captain Gjalund the written documentation to travel to Solstheim. Romlyn stood by anxiously bouncing up and down on his toes, constantly readjusting his knapsack and shifting his weight.  
  
"Are you all right?" Vendras asked but Romlyn swiftly dismissed him. They walked slowly up the boarding ramp, but even the light rocking of the boat in the calm harbor gave Romlyn vertigo. It flipped off his equilibrium like a switch. He stumbled and Vendras caught him. He stated that he clumsily tripped over his own feet, but Vendras was suspicious.  
  
Barely an hour into launch, Romlyn could be heard retching over the the side of the ship. They hadn't even gotten out of the fjord yet. He was positively green in color, with bags under his eyes and a face that looked prepared for a burial in an ancient Nordic catacomb.  
  
Vendras tried his best to help remedy the motion sickness with little tricks he had learned but to no avail. The best he could do was hold his hair while he spewed and keep him from falling overboard. There were many long hours ahead of them. The crewmates brought Vendras a chair so he could sit beside the barely conscious Romlyn as he hung folded in half at the waist over the rail. They were so accustomed to sailing they hadn't considered to keep medicine for seasickness. Vendras didn't even have a sprig of mint for him to chew on to settle his stomach, but he forced him to drink water. They had a canteen to share, but Vendras let him have the whole thing. There would be no drinking from that vessel again for the rest of the trip even if he could manage to get past the residual stench of stomach bile from Romlyn's breath. They were already off to such a great start. But sailing was much safer and faster than scaling the mountain pass in order to reach the city of Blacklight, which would have been a more preferable destination for the Morrowind experience.  
  
However Vendras, despite the futile attempt to tend to his sickly spouse, enjoyed the cool early springtime breeze from the sea. It was fresh, crisp, and invigorating. Pity his husband couldn't enjoy it as he did. It made him feel terrible, and made him wonder why Romlyn didn't just tell him that traveling by water made him ill. It was difficult to tell the scoundrel he didn't have to prove himself or look tough to impress Vendras. The rings were already on their fingers.  
  
Vendras examined the gold band adorning his ring finger. He liked the way it contrasted with his gray flesh. And he especially liked the way it made him feel invincible. He stroked Romlyn's arm lovingly, and the elf became alert enough to look at him. He mustered a bit of a weak smile at Vendras's touch, but his eyes struggled to find a focal point and the nausea took hold once more. He eventually passed out from exhaustion, so Vendras bridal carried him to a cot below deck.  
  
Gjalund crossed his arms and shook his head at the unwell Dunmer. He clicked his tongue. "Sorry about your husband, Vendras."  
  
Vendras sighed. "Don't worry about it. I'll take care of him. I thought he was behaving strangely, but he didn't say anything."  
  
"Well, if you ever need to sail anywhere again, we'll stock up on some herbs."  
  
Vendras let Romlyn sleep. It was much better than hearing him regurgitate his organs. They only had a few more hours to go before they docked at Raven Rock.  
  
Romlyn was awake when they arrived, but still indisposed in appearance. Vendras escorted him to the pier.  
  
"Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me you suffered from seasickness?" Vendras asked as he squeezed his shoulder.  
  
"I'm sorry, Ven. You were so excited to surprise me and I didn't want to ruin it."  
  
"We could have gotten some things to alleviate the symptoms. No matter now. We'll go find the apothecary and see what we can do to settle you."  
  
Adril Arano, Councilor Morvayn's second in command, greeted the travelers as he went to the boat to account for the incoming shipments. He was busy so he didn't speak long, just enough to point them in the direction of the much needed alchemist and hand them the key to their vacation home.  
  
Vendras was enamored by the dusty terrain. He'd never felt anything like it beneath his feet aside from sand, but it was much softer, and so much different from the crunch of snow. They passed some guards wearing peculiar looking armor and he couldn't stop marveling over the sights. The denizens probably thought their fellow Dunmer was mentally deficient.  
  
Straight ahead in a small outdoor bazaar, they discovered an alchemy lab. Seated beside it, a Dunmer woman wearing hooded garb drank from a skooma bottle, but pocketed the illegal substance quickly as the pair approached.  
  
Her red dark elf eyes widened at the sight of Romlyn. "Your friend, he's... he's greener than an Argonian!" The look on her face told Vendras she knew exactly what was wrong.  
  
"You have something that can help?"  
  
"By all means. Don't worry. This happens a lot. You just sailed in, I take it?"  
  
"Yes. Taking a little vacation from the mainland for awhile." Vendras said.  
  
The elf woman had many bottles of remedies prepared for sailors and travelers and handed one to Romlyn. "This will fix you right up." She continued with the prior conversation. "Don't know why anyone would take a vacation here. Not much to do but drink at the bar and gag on Vvardenfell ash."  
  
Vendras smiled. "Oh, we'll find something." He asked her where Severin Manor was located and bid her thanks. Romlyn sipped weakly from his bottle until they reached the front door of the insect-like abode nestled in an alcove of basalt columns, the natural obelisks that seemed like they were growing straight from a garden of ash. Vendras marveled at the volcanic rocks and their peculiar consistently hexagonal shapes.  
  
"This architecture and landscape is spectacular!" Vendras chimed ecstatically as he jammed the key into the lock. Upon entry he realized the home was not built up, but built down beneath the ground. The upper level was for cooking and dining, and the other rooms were fashioned into symmetrical little pockets as though they were crafted by ants. He adored it.  
  
"I'm going to lie down and worship the stillness of land again," Romlyn said drowsily and searched for the bed. His nap on the ship had been very restless.  
  
Vendras took this time to unpack their things and settle in while his spouse regained his bearings. Afterwards, he meandered around the abode and found a luxurious bathtub in the washroom where he could pump the water right into the tub and warm it with smooth stones that could be heated at a fireplace nearby. Hjerim also had running water, but nowhere near as sophisticated or easily accessible. There were times he'd have rathered bathe in a stream. Carrying boiling kettles to the tub was more of a chore than it was worth. And this tub was large enough to comfortably fit two adults, which gave him an idea.  
  
He called to his husband. "Darling?"  
  
There was a brief hesitation and a muffled voice from the bedroom. "What?"  
  
"I'm going to draw you a bath," he said as he rummaged through the cupboards which were already conveniently stocked with a variety with perfumed oils, dried flowers, and soaps and he then started a fire to heat the stones. It was going to take a bit of an effort, and he hoped Romlyn would make a full recovery by the time the bath was filled and up to a desirable temperature.  
  
In the meantime, Vendras examined himself in an ornate trifold looking glass behind the bathtub. He gently touched the triplet of scars on his cheek, his not so subtle reminder of the person he used to be and left far in his past. He once despised those scars, but over time grew to respect them. The markings symbolized personal growth and perservereance. He had come a long way from traumatized and troubled child to a happy and successful adult, and he had the Dunmer who had fallen asleep in the other room to thank for encouraging him to be his best self, to right his wrongs and to battle his demons head on. His hand fell to the silver chain around his neck, upon his collarbone rested a tiny bottle of ash, a small memento of his father. After reciting a few things in his mind, he hung the chain on the corner of the mirror so that it wouldn't get broken.  
  
Vendras plopped a few of the hot polished obsidian stones with tongs into the bath water. As it warmed up, the delightful floral aromas permeated his nostrils. He then completely undressed, his original intent was to call Romlyn in for a surprise, but the powerful scents of the flowers and oils already enticed him to consciousness, and there he leaned eagerly in the threshold.  
  
"Now there's a sight for sore eyes," he said with a cheeky grin, as he admired the divinely sculpted pewter flesh of the nude, statuesque elf before him.  
  
Vendras smiled ear to ear. "You must be feeling better."  
  
"Much," he said. He was already getting excited for the events that were inevitably about to ensue. “Now even better seeing you like this.” He couldn't resist kissing him. “Mmm...by the gods you are sexy.”

“You better remove your clothes and join me before the water chills,” Vendras said slyly and slinked down into the aromatic and relaxing floral bath. Romlyn wasted no time obeying his request. While Vendras was larger than average in size for a dark elf with a thick and robust build, Romlyn was smaller, lean, but muscular. Vendras could not keep his hands to himself as he combed his fingers up his adbomen through the hair on his torso, locking his lips to his.

“You should touch me a little lower,” the scandalous Romlyn pleaded.

“Not just yet,” Vendras placed a trail of kisses behind his ear and travelled carefully down his neck. He tasted of flesh seasoned with herbs and wildflowers.

“Gods, you make me horny,” Romlyn groaned.

“You're always horny,” Vendras chuckled and wrapped one large arm around Romlyn's waist, the other groped his pectoral area.

“I don't hear you complaining.” Romlyn took him softly by the wrist and tried to sneak his hand below the beltline, but he resisted. “Stop teasing me.” He could feel Vendras's smile on his lips and his own pulse everywhere in his body.

“But it's so much fun.” He then whispered a highly sexual Dunmeri phrase that he learned from him into his ear. Vendras was typically prim and proper under most circumstances, but had a tendency to be explicit with bedroom talk, especially as their relationship bloomed over time, he became more comfortable saying what was on his mind. And Romlyn loved it. He responded with words equally as erotic which sent a rush of adrenaline through Vendras's body. “Don't do that to me. I already want to fuck you,” he gasped.

“But I'm the horny one?” Romlyn snorted playfully.

“Shut up and kiss me.” He couldn't resist giving himself a few strokes in the meantime.

Romlyn pushed him lightly back against the opposing wall of the tub, which displaced some of the water, and straddled his lap. “Now that's just not fair.” He gnawed at his neck and nibbled his ear. “How badly do you want me?”

“Ungh...very,” Vendras moaned dreamily.

“Not good enough. I think you better tell me.” With great fervor, Romlyn grabbed him by the shaft, squeezing tightly, the profound sensation from which made his entire body writhe as he gripped the brim of the bathtub.

“Romlyn! Fuck!”

He traced his ear with his tongue, maintaining a vice-like grip and pulling upward slowly, the pleasure and pain from which made him want Romlyn to continue yet he also wanted to pull away. “I love it when you say my name. Tell me you want me.”

“I want you...” Vendras panted. His heart pounded like a drum within his heaving, glistening chest.

“I don't think you do,” he teased.

“Please...Romlyn I want you.” He tried to move his hips into him, but he continued to resist him.

“Say it again.”

“I want you, Romlyn.”

“No...not quite.

Vendras knew what he wanted him to say, but in his scatterbrained state of arousal couldn't remember the correct words, so he continued to torture him until he said it.

“Tell me what you want to do to me, Ven.” His sultry and unforgiving voice rattled Vendras.

“ _Os...ura..._ ugh!

Romlyn kept getting him to the brink of climax but would cease. Vendras could have just taken him. He was much smaller. But something about the way he touched him overwhelmed him with weakness.

“Come on, Ven...”

“Romlyn please...I can't...” If he wanted to finish, he needed to remember. At last it struck him in the scalding heat of passion. “ _OS URA BALGAD OHN!_ ” He shoved the smaller Dunmer to the other side causing the tub to spill much more of its contents.

“Ooh that's it.” At last Romlyn was appeased. He wrapped his legs around Vendras and made easy access for him. He kissed him hard. “Fuck me, Vendras.”

Vendras wasted no more time as he inserted himself deeply into him, the slippery oils in the water made it simple and pleasurable, even though he was hung like a steed and his husband was tight. Because of his large endowment, Romlyn needed no further stimulation, he struck his prostate just right in a few thrusts, causing him to ejaculate immensely. The uncontrollably gratified vocalizations he made and the way he dug his fingers into his shoulders aroused Vendras so much he came in mere seconds after him.

His hot breath stung Romlyn's cheek as he endured his rapture. “Damn I love you,” he panted. The satisfied Romlyn snickered and kissed him by the ear and then on the lips. After basking in one another's love for a few moments, the couple parted, as the bath water had become unpleasantly frigid. The Dunmer couple chuckled at the mess of water they had to clean up but they didn't care. "It was a rough trip and it's only been a couple hours but I'm already glad we came here, Ven."  
  
Vendras lassoed him with his towel and pulled him close. "Speaking of coming..."  
  
"You fiend," Romlyn giggled at the barrage of tickling kisses he received up the length of his neck. His skin had been softened and lightly fragranced by the botanicals in the bath.  
  
Vendras untied is his wet ponytail and brushed out his long coppery mane. He looked rather princely with his hair down and Romlyn found himself distracted by his graceful locks, and then as his gaze traveled downward, by his muscular back and perfectly shaped firm backside. Vendras caught a glimpse of him biting his lip behind him in the mirror's reflection as he re-tied his hair.  
  
"You see something you like?"  
  
Romlyn snapped back to reality and his mouth curved into a sheepish grin.  
  
Vendras kissed him yet again. "You can have all you desire of me later." He walked alway and began to gather garments to dress. "You must be starving by now, especially after emptying your guts into the sea like you did."  
  
Now that it had been brought to his attention, the pain in his stomach was gnawing at him quite viciously. "Must have worked up an appetite making love," he said.  
  
"I think we passed an inn on our way here. Perhaps you can introduce me to some fine Dunmeri cuisine."  
  
Romlyn scoffed. "I don't think an outlander like you will appreciate the delicate and selective tastes of the true Dunmer people." His words were drenched with sarcasm.  
  
Vendras pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, come on."  
  
"You're used to Nord food. Let's just say our food might be a bit exotic for you."  
  
"Oh you're such a stick in the mud," pouted Vendras.  
  
Romlyn laughed. "My dear, you can try any dish you like, but I'm telling you, it's very different from what you're used to."  
  
"Try me."  
  
"Hurry up and get dressed and let's go."

The couple made their way back into the settlement, shoving each other like children at play. “Stop! You're going to get me all dusty,” Romlyn whined.

“Oh heavens no!” Vendras teased. “We might have to take another bath together.” He winked and they both laughed. Soon, they happened upon The Retching Netch. Romlyn wasn't fond of the name.

The layout and design of the tavern was similar to Severin Manor. A few patrons were sitting on the upper level enjoying drinks while the Dunmer couple stumbled inside, still laughing and shoving each other around.

“Oh, look at the precious newlyweds,” a lazy, drawn out, and somewhat nasally muffled voice addressed them with an air of sarcasm.

They both turned to see who remarked to them, and all they found was a man, clad head to toe in native chitin armor. His face was fully covered, and all they could see of him behind dirty goggles was the faint glow of garnet Dunmeri eyes.

Romlyn caught a whiff of discourtesy. “How do you know we're married?”

A helmeted head cocked sideways, a “tch” from within. “I can see your wedding rings, you _s'wit_.”

The little Dunmer didn't take kindly to needless condescension. He was about to say something when Vendras herded him away, the man in the chitin armor laughed from deep within his belly.

Vendras and Romlyn descended to the lower level of the bar, Romlyn still hotheaded about their encounter with the mystery man above. They took their places at an empty table and Vendras sent Romlyn away to order them food and drinks to distract him. Not too far away, and heedlessly staring a hole through him, sat an unusual looking and almost goonishly large Altmer man, even in comparison to Vendras's large stature. He was not elegant or sophisticated in appearance like the typical high elf. His skin was bronze-gold, and he had strawberry blond hair fashioned in a side shave style. Not unlike his dark elvish counterparts, he wore a permanent frown, and over one eye, rusty red warpaint was smeared carelessly in a design that was not typicaly associated with Altmer, but Vendras was unsure of the origin. Based on his sense of style and battered ebony armor, Vendras would have guessed he was a mercenary or possibly an assassin. All he knew was that he did not appreciate the way his spessartine orange eyes fell so hatefully upon him. But he chose to ignore him, tapping his fingers on the table to entertain himself while he waited for Romlyn.

The bar was loud and busy. He couldn't recall any of the taverns in Skyrim this packed before for any reason. Vendras tried to segregate different conversations to find something to eavesdrop on, but many patrons spoke in their own tongue, very few in the common language or otherwise. There was laughter and merriment all around, which set his mind at ease, even with the high elf nearby still searing this obvious outlander with his foul gaze. Dancing about the barroom, a tiny young Dunmeri woman waved about a mug of whatever brew she was indulging in. She spilled more than she drank and she was singing songs with a few groups of people who would have her, though many also glowered hotly at her behavior. To Vendras's dismay, he caught her attention. He knew he would. She flounced over to him. Next to Vendras, she looked like a child in size. The brown-haired elf devoured the final mouthful of her beverage and slammed the mug hard on the table, nearly upsetting the lantern at the center. Like most Dunmer, her eyes were red, but they were swirling like an abyss trying to focus. She was exceptionally drunk.

She said something incoherently in Dunmeris to him, but even if her speech was clear, the only word he could discern roughly translated to “sexy.” She was trying to flirt.

“I don't speak the language,” Vendras said. For shits and giggles, he was interested to see how this played out.

“Oh, an outlander! No wonder I haven't seen you before. Boy, you're a big one aren't you!? I bet you're big elsewhere too!” She made to reach for his crotch but he grabbed her frail wrist and pushed her away.

It was uncomfortable for him, but he had been hoping the situation didn't immediately devolve to sexual harrassment. It angered her that he dared to reject her advances. She was well aware that she was attractive, and indeed she was stunning, anyone would have been blind not to see her beauty. The high elf was still watching like a hawk, which made the situation even more awkward.

“What?” she elongated and slurred her words, but she sounded like she wanted to slap him. “Don't you like women!?”

Vendras sighed through his nose and maintained his composure. The girl was clearly inebriated and he didn't want to hold it against her. It didn't offend him anyway. He spoke coolly. “As a matter of fact, I do not.”

Even in her drunken stupor, those words flabbergasted her. “Um...oh.”

“Also...” Vendras wiggled his ring finger.

Embarrassed, her hands clasped to her mouth. “Oh! Oh my goodness! I'm...I'm so sorry!”

Romlyn fumbled in at last with drinks and perfect timing. The line was long for the owner's new brew so it took him awhile to get back. “Phew! Sorry for the wait! Darling, you're not gonna believe this. That house we're renting? The Dragonborn owns that house!” He kissed his cheek before he sat. He hadn't noticed the small woman beside Vendras until this moment. “Uh...hello there??”

The girl's eyes lit up with another unexpected reaction. “Is this your husband!? He's adorable!”

Romlyn, though terribly perplexed, blushed anyway. Vendras laughed and told him he'd explain later. Thankfully, the man with the chitin helmet came seemingly out of nowhere to usher her away from the guests. “Indira, come on now before you make an ass of yourself more than you already have.” His words were very enunciated and deliberate.

“Teldryn! Shit! Get the fuck off me!” The Dunmer named Indira swatted at him, but none of her strikes connected. “You're drunk and you're acting like a tart! Time to go home!” he hissed through his teeth. “Apologies on behalf of my young friend here, gentlemen.” The mysterious masked Teldryn picked the girl up by her waist with ease and tossed her over his shoulder like a tiny sack of feather-light potatoes. She flailed and kicked pathetically and hammered his armor with her fists, but she ended up hurting herself and gave in. Teldryn scolded the high elf sitting near them. “Great work, Throm. You're supposed to be keeping Indira out of trouble too. Do I have to do everything?”

The Altmer laughed and spoke loudly to be sure Vendras and Romlyn could hear. “Those man-lovers weren't going to bother her. They're too busy burying their cocks balls deep in each other.”

Romlyn snapped his head around. “You mind your own fucking business you jaundiced son of a bitch!”

No one could see him do it, but Teldryn rolled his eyes hard. “Thromwatch, don't start your shit with the outlanders. Let's go get this one sobered up before the boss kills us both.” He saluted the couple, and the high elf Thromwatch glared his last before tagging along with his comrade.

Romlyn slammed his head down on the table. “Why? Why is it that everywhere we go, there is always... _something_?!”

“Oh Romlyn, don't be so dramatic,” said Vendras. “It's over and they're already gone. Come now. What have you brought me to drink?”

He rubbed his forehead realizing he had hit his head a bit too roughly. He slid over one of the mugs. It was better to forget everything. “This, my dear is sujamma. The owner is making a killing up there on his own special recipe. This is what we drink in Morrowind to wash the taste of terrible food down our throats.”

Vendras shook his head, but he was eager to sample this refreshment. Unlike many alcohols, even the smell was pleasant. He took a sip at first, and then a gulp. His eyebrows raised, and then another gulp. “Wow. That _is_ very good!” A sweet and citrusy flavor with creamy undertones and a bitter bite after swallowing graced his tongue and it went down smooth.

Soon a Dunmer server arrived with a platter of a variety of things. “So sorry for the wait. Enjoy!”

It generally smelled okay, but to Vendras some of the items on the plate looked questionable. One of the meats looked like a large grasshopper leg. Vendras didn't hate bugs, but he couldn't imagine _eating_ one. Romlyn began to spread a sticky subtance on a slice of soft fresh baguette. It looked like cloudy jam. “What is that?” he questioned.

“Scrib jelly. I haven't had this since I was a kid.”

“Uh...what is a scrib?”

“A big bug, I guess would be the best way to describe it.”

Vendras's throat got tight as he imagined the tacky fluids that came out of a crushed insect.

“You want a bite?” Romlyn held it over the table so he could reach.

He gave it a sniff. The aroma was sour and unpleasant like bad milk. He grimaced and denied him.

Romlyn chuckled and took a large chomp, savoring the nostalgic flavor from his childhood. “I thought you were up for anything?” He knew Vendras wasn't going to like the native food. He slid over a bowl of ash yam and cabbage stew, and a plate of seasoned rice. “Here, this is normal enough for you.”

Vendras wasn't afraid to try these things that looked familiar, but they were spicy compared to some of the bland cuisine of Nords who relied mostly on animal fats for bases and flavor, and seasoned with salt. He found he did not mind the agricultural dishes of grains and vegetables, but was skeptical on the meat. Though Romlyn did get him to try the ash hopper leg. It was a first for Romlyn as well, since ash hoppers only dwell on Solstheim, so they tried something new together, though Romlyn seemed more enthusiastic about it, as it resembled food he used to eat growing up. Vendras didn't mind the mild flavor and tender meat of the ash hopper, but it unsettled him knowing it was still a bug. What he loved most of all was the joy his husband derived from his dining experience. All Vendras knew was that he could use another pint or two of sujamma to put him in a good frame of mind.


	3. Chapter 3

A bucket of frigid cold sea water splashed over Indira's entire body. “Shit! What in Oblivion is wrong with you, Teldryn?!”

She couldn't see his face, but beneath his chitin helmet, Teldryn Sero's brows were furrowed in irritation. “Don't talk to me that way. You're acting like a damn fool. And a spoiled brat!”

Leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed, Thromwatch Aelsinthar spectated, chuckling to himself as Teldryn daddied her.

“Your parents aren't going to be very happy with you romping around drinking and groping everything with a penis.” Teldryn continued to nag the young woman.

Indira massaged her temples. The intoxication swirled within her spinning skull. “I am not a child.”

“Not a child? Then quit behaving like one.” Sweat poured over his face. He longed to remove his helmet, but neither Indira nor Thromwatch had ever seen his face. Anonymity was more important than comfort.

The young woman began to weep. “I'm sorry...I'm such a disgrace.”

For some reason Teldryn found it difficult to stay angry with her, even if she did annoy him and make his job much harder than it had to be. Normally it was simple to detach himself from his clients. He didn't want to care, but for some reason he did anyway. The Andrelo family were among the wealthiest in Raven Rock. He was just doing what he was paid to do. He sighed heavily and handed her a towel and dry clothes. “You're not a disgrace. I just don't want you to get into trouble. With your parents or otherwise. And I definitely don't want you to get hurt or taken advantage of.”

She spoke from behind the towel as she dried herself. “I just don't understand why they needed to hire two mercenaries to follow me around. Nothing happens here on this rock. What are they so afraid of?”

“Dragons? Ash spawn? Assassins? Could be anything. They must care a lot about you.” Teldryn was warm beneath his armor. He wished this day would be over so he could isolate himself in his room at The Retching Netch, free to wear nothing but his skin.

Yeah. “Care.” Indira thought to herself.

Thromwatch exaggerated a yawn. “I think my work is done here. You've got this.”

Teldryn scoffed. “Pfft. Work. All you do is stand around and look like a puckered asshole.”

“Don't care. It's coin in my pocket.” He gestured crudely at the dark elf on his way out the door. 

After Thromwatch had gone, Indira asked Teldryn to turn around while she dressed in the abandoned shack they retreated to beyond the bulwark. He was sure her parents wouldn't go out of their way to search for her there, and any such case, they trusted him, or at least he was paid very well to be trusted or else. They didn't particularly like him or Thromwatch, but they were the only two mercenaries on Solstheim. Teldryn assumed they were just over protective, but they never provided any reasons as to why they required him to nanny their young adult daughter.

“All right,” Indira said and sat back down on the floor. She was still drunk, but she didn't appear to be having as much fun as she had been back at the bar. In fact she looked rundown for a young woman. “Thromwatch is such a bag of shit.”

Teldryn slid down the wall and sat beside her. “Tell me something I don't know.” He turned towards her so he could see her better through his goggles. “Why do you curse so much?”

Indira shrugged. “I dunno. It just comes out, I guess.”

He made a vocalism that she couldn't interpret. 

“Why? Does it bother you because I'm a woman?”

“I don't care what you do,” he said. “I curse as well. I see no difference.”

“Mother tells me it's not 'lady like' and that no husband wants to hear that kind of thing.”

He didn't bother making an expression since she couldn't see his face anyway, but he could feel the cringe shrinking within himself. “Why is she worried about something like that?”

“I guess they're planning to arrange a marriage or something someday with some other House Dunmer or whatever. I don't know. I don't understand any of it. It all feels wrong. If my husband doesn't like my swearing, he can suck my cock.”

Teldryn was taken aback by such a statement, but didn't say anything. He didn't care for the upper class or their peculiar blue-blood customs, but he sympathized with her. It sounded miserable to be forced to wed a person you had nothing in common with and no love for.

“I feel so helpless...” Indira trailed off. After a brief silence she spoke again. “Why do you never take off your helmet? You've been around for a month and I've yet to see your face.”

He didn't really feel like answering her. “It's just my style.”

“You're strange.”

He chortled. “I'm not the one who flirts with inverted Dunmer.”

“Shut up. He was cute. And I didn't see the wedding band.” Indira brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them. “What's your story, Teldryn Sero? Since you're probably gonna be around awhile with all that gold my parents are giving you, may as well get to know each other.”

He genuinely didn't feel like talking, especially about himself. “There's too much, you'll get bored. Come on. If you promise to behave, we'll go back to the tavern and you can have something to eat to absorb the alcohol before you go home.”

Back at The Retching Netch, Teldryn slid a plate of bread and butter to Indira. She wasn't hungry, but better to eat some bread and not be hungover while her parents harassed her for having fun. Teldryn glanced around the bar, which was much emptier now that Geldis's keg was devoid of his new special recipe. He observed him and his employee sweeping the floor and wiping tables for a few moments. The big redhead and small platinum haired Dunmer couple from earlier were still there and out of the periphery of his goggles he caught them admidst a tender kiss. It was sweet.

“Teldryn!”

“Hmm?”

“I've been talking to you this whole time and you're over there daydreaming.” Indira said with her cheeks stuffed with butterbread. She looked like a chipmunk.

“Sorry, I'm just tired. Had to deal with you all day,” he joked. “So what is it?”

Indira was unusually nervous. “I have a performance at the carnival. I'd like you to be there...you know. If you're into that kind of thing. Of course...if my father and mother don't already force you to be there, that is.”

“Oh! Well of course.” He was honestly surprised Indira had a hobby besides daydrinking. The girl seemed to withdraw into herself. It was out of character for her.

She struggled to find the words she wished to express. “I know you don't really know me well or anything but...it would really mean a lot for me, you know...if someone different would be there to hear me sing.”

Teldryn knew what she meant by it. He felt honored to be invited to such an event. He loved music. Maybe there was something more to this young woman than he once thought. “Yes. I'll be there.”

Her pale ashen face lit up with glee. Her almond shaped Dunmer eyes wrinkled up as she smiled brightly. He never saw her don an expression like that before, but it lifted his spirits. “Thank you so much, Teldryn!” The only thing she could think to do in that moment was hug him, but she released him promptly, deciding it wasn't appropriate to touch her mercenary in such a manner. “Oh...I guess Thromwatch can come too, if he wants.” She bid him good night and went home. He wasn't worried about escorting her. The Andrelo household was basically across the street.

There was no one left in the tavern now but him and the happy married couple. They looked like they'd be sticking around the island for awhile so he thought he'd be considerate and friendly toward the new visitors. Something about their presence gave him a good vibe. “Outlanders!” he called to them. They both turned their heads in unison. “You turned up just in time. Raven Rock Carnival is in a few days if that's something that strikes your fancy.”

Romlyn and Vendras shared a glance and smiled. A carnival? What a fun idea.

“Why are you telling us?” Romlyn was suspicious of the masked man.

Teldryn shrugged. “Why not? You two are clearly seeking a good time, no?”

Vendras agreed the gesture was kind. “He's being nice, darling. Weren't you just complaining about everyone being rude a few moments ago?”

Teldryn snickered. “If you mean the Altmer, I advise paying him no mind. Thromwatch is a right prick.”

“Listen,” Romlyn protested. “No one who hides their face like that has good intentions.”

Vendras took genuine offense to that remark. “Romlyn, don't be so inconsiderate. We don't know why he covers his face. Maybe he's been badly burned or has a deformity or other such ailment. Like scars.” He made sure to add emphasis to the word, which drew Romlyn's attention directly to his husband's left cheek. “And frankly it's none of our business.” 

Romlyn went pink with shame and bowed his head. Vendras never chastened him in such a way before.

Teldryn found humor in their bickering, but he didn't want them to start a fight over something so petty. “Gentlemen, if it helps to break the proverbial ice, I'm Teldryn Sero, blade for hire...though I can't offer my services at this point in time. That being said, I'm simply observing an objective situation and offering you a bit of assistance. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“See? You're blowing it out of proportion. Not everyone is mean.”

“But...” Romlyn caught a frog in his throat and responded timidly. “Not everyone is like you either...”

These two were something else. Teldryn clicked his tongue, then stood up slowly to stretch, reaching his arms to the sky, each of his elf bones cracking head to toe. “Take it or leave it, gentlemen. It's your decision. I promise you I meant nothing ill by it. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a long day tomorrow of chasing a delinquent around. I didn't catch your name, Red.”

The auburn-haired elf was quick to answer him, despite Romlyn's continuing disinclination. “Vendras Volur-Dreth. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“And you, bitter one. Romlyn, correct?”

“Yes.” he grumbled.

“Red and Sourpuss it is.” Teldryn couldn't resist a final frivolous jab to get the little Dunmer all fired up before he retreated to his room. 

He waved in a friendly manner at Geldis along the way. Rooms in this style of Dunmer architecture were like neat little pockets. But in order to accommodate so many guests, they were built small. He may as well have been living in a closet. But at last he could remove the burden of his exoskeleton-like armor. He dropped the helmet and red cowl on the nightstand wiped the dried sweat, both old and new, from his face. His mohawk style hair now stuck stringy and flat to his scalp. He scratched at his neatly trimmed goatee, entranced in no thought in particular. He stripped himself down to nothing, gave himself a whore's bath in the wash basin, concentrating mostly on the filthiest areas, then crawled in bed to lie on top of the covers and enjoy the slight draft from beneath the door while he stared blankly at the ceiling, arms crossed behind his head. He wondered how he had been reduced to nothing more than a babysitter. Coin was coin, he supposed and he did happen to love the way they clinked together in his pockets. At what cost? Was sacrificing adventure or a chance to get off that island, even for a little while, truly worth it?

Red and Sourpuss crossed his mind while he observed the silt covered cobwebs wafting in the corners. It baffled Teldryn that anyone would come to Solstheim on purpose for any reason. They were nothing more than honeymooners, though, he could tell. But there was still something about the two of them that he couldn't quite put his finger on. And Thromwatch, the bastard. He knew even less about him than the ones he just met. Throm had been around for years, but still just as enigmatic. It wasn't like him to be unable to read a someone. However his gut told him he was no threat either. Just another drifter like him looking to better himself doing odd jobs. Throm was the only high elf on the island. It was a strange place for an Altmer to be, and he was even stranger with the way he conducted himself. Altmer were commonly known to be narcissistic and cocky, but it felt exaggerated from Throm, like he had something to prove. Even so, he sensed no foulness about him, even if he struggled to tolerate his general attitude. Whatever the case, he and Throm were paid to protect that troublesome Indira. But why? Would bigger things ensue, or was it just run of the mill? Teldryn laughed out loud at himself. He always felt the need to make things out to be bigger than they were. “Foolishness,” he said.

The drafty air from beneath the door finally cooled him to a reasonable body temperature. He rolled to his side and covered himself partially with the fur blanket, but he still had trouble falling asleep as he'd reached the point beyond exhaustion. He rolled around and shifted himself a million times to get comfortable. He scratched an itch on his foot which segued into picking at a callous on his toe. It seemed like his brain was wakeful while his body kept tugging at it, begging for it to let him rest. It was going to be a long night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how I feel about this chapter yet. Feels a bit rushed to me, but I wanted to get the ball rolling. I'm still building backgrounds for my new characters, so I may alter this later.

Vendras stared absentmindedly into the flames in the fireplace, a dopey grin on his face, gripping the fur of the bear skin rug beneath him, legs criss-crossed. His head was spinning pleasantly from all the sujamma he consumed. It must have finally caught up with him after drinking all night. 

"Romlyn, sit with me by the fire!" he called at a volume that was much louder than usual. He was blitzed out of his mind. 

Vendras didn't normally drink like that, and Romlyn wasn't certain if he was annoyed or wanted to laugh, but he heeded his lover's request.

"You don't have to be so loud," he said softly, and Vendras responded with an overstated "I'm not being loud!"

Romlyn winced. It made his ears ring. 

" _Yi daelha_ , what's wrong? Are you angry with me? You're angry with me aren't you?!" Vendras clutched Romlyn's bicep entirely too tight, but he kept his anguish to himself.

"Ven, I'm not angry," he said rather defensively. 

Vendras wasn't yet inebriated to the point of total incoherence. "I can't help but feel like you're not having as good a time as I thought."

Romlyn silently prayed to the three that Vendras would loosen his grip on his arm. "Of course I'm having a good time, love. It's just--"

"Just what?" He interrupted. "If you're letting those men get to you --"

"No, no it's not that." He was still warm thinking about it anyway. It was annoying, but overall a nonissue. "I just...I just have a bad feeling all of a sudden."

Vendras cocked his head. "If you're not comfortable we could go home."

The memory of sailing made Romlyn's stomach flip. "Don't be silly, Ven. You spent a lot of time and money to take us on this trip. We'll stay as long as you please." With the joy he saw in that dopishly drunk expression, he couldn't bear to tell Vendras no. He didn't want to leave either, but it was true that he did sense something odd.

Vendras tried to be as empathetic as he could in his current state. But he wasn't getting it. He was much more intoxicated than Romlyn anticipated. 

"You're just cranky about that buggy goggle guy and his tall friend with the gross name!" He placed his hands on Romlyn's shoulders and pushed him quite gingerly to the floor for a man who didn't know his own strength at the moment, kissing him sloppily, his hot breath heavy with the pungent scent of Geldis's brand of sujamma. Romlyn found it kind of funny. 

"Are you trying to distract me?"

"Maybe," Vendras chirped.

"Well it's working." They kissed for awhile, and even though he enjoyed it immensely, he couldn't shake the feeling he had. He pushed Vendras away with reluctance and sat back up. 

"What's wrong?" He said inquisitively.

Romlyn shook his head. "It's not the mercenaries. It's the girl that's bothering me."

"Oh, Romlyn!" Vendras cackled. "You know I don't look at women that way."

"That's not what I mean, you big idiot," he punched him in the arm jokingly. "I mean why would someone need two mercenaries looking after her?"

Vendras wasn't actually in the right frame of mind to talk about anything serious at all. "She's clearly wealthy. It's just what they do. Spend money on things they don't need because they think their lives are more valuable than the rest of us." 

Romlyn wasn't so sure that was the only reason, but he didn't pursue it any further as he became entranced by the glimmering embers. But he could still feel the sting of a gaze on him. Vendras was fixed upon his husband, eyes glassy like two polished gemstones, wearing an almost comical come-hither smirk. 

"I love you, Romlyn."

He simply could not resist that silver tongue. "I love you too, Vendras."

Vendras crawled towards him and stole another kiss. Romlyn gave in completely this time. Who in their right mind would worry about strangers with a man this ravishing before them? How fortunate was he to feel his warmth and his weight enveloping his body? Vendras did not waste any time peeling away articles of clothing from his partner. But for some reason he still felt inappropriate. 

"Ven, darling you're piss drunk."

"I know what I want..." He slithered his tongue up the entire length of Romlyn's torso beginning just above his pubic region all the way to his collarbone, his muscles contracted from the peculiar moist tickling sensation. His breathing became heavy. "...and I want you."

"Ven," he sighed. It felt phenomenal but he was nervous to continue.

"I'm not as drunk as you think," he assured. "I've been thinking about this all night. I want to be close to you..." He smothered Romlyn with kisses. 

"I love you so much," he said again but his tone was not of lust, but of heightened emotion, like he was on the verge of tears. 

Romlyn thought it was sweet, but it was all the proof he needed that Vendras was not of sound mind. He wriggled out from beneath his large frame and put the clothes he'd removed back on partially.

"What are you doing?" Vendras sounded upset. 

"Come on, we're not doing this tonight. You need to sleep it off." He took him by the hands and pulled him to his feet. Vendras stumbled nearly taking the smaller elf with him, but Romlyn was strong and he set him straight. The booze was catching up to him quickly now. It was amusing.

Using his limber arm as a lead, he pulled the wobbly Vendras into the bedroom, and he very compliantly obeyed every one of Romlyn's commands.

"Now you just lie down."

"The ceiling is swirling." Vendras's words were elongated and lazy.

Romlyn chuckled and kicked off his boots to climb into bed with him. "Yes it'll do that for awhile." He wasn't tired. He had enough rest to last him a lifetime. So instead he sat up to read while Vendras wriggled his way into his lap, still whining about his drunken dizziness, with both arms entwined around his waist holding onto him like he was going to float away. Romlyn shook his head and he caressed his husband's auburn tresses in between page turns until he conked out.

***

"Ugh...my head," Vendras groaned, face flat on the dining table. "My mouth is so dry."

Romlyn laughed. "How about some sujamma to wet your whistle?"

Vendras grumbled again. He was in no mood for jokes.

Romlyn handed him a healthy serving of water. "I should have warned you about the imfamous sujamma hangover, but you were enjoying yourself too much."

He slid haphazardly across the table and hugged him around the waist. "Bless you for taking care of me. I didn't misbehave, did I?"

"You couldn't keep your hands to yourself," smirked Romlyn. Vendras's cheeks turned pink. 

"Ughhhhh," he griped. He struggled to remember most of the night after they left The Retching Netch. The thoughts faded in and out, but he did distinctly remember Romlyn saying something didn't sit right with him so he questioned him about it.

"Let's not worry about that. We came here to have fun. Let's go for some breakfast and whip you back into shape."

"No giant bugs please," complained Vendras. "I will throw up."

Romlyn laughed. 

The morning wasn't nearly as busy at the inn. They didn't recognize any of the handful of people there except owner Geldis who greeted them with a smile. He knew his newest patron would be feeling the aftermath of his brew and immediately offered his "hangover special."

Not long after they began eating, the young Dunmer woman from the night before emerged from the stairwell. It appeared she had been looking for them, and she approached timidly, giving a small wave. 

"I'm glad I found you. I really wanted to apologize for my actions yesterday. I'm just...I'm so sorry!"

"We all have our moments," said Vendras. Romlyn gave a cheeky grin from the side.

"I'm Indira Andrelo," she offered her hand for them both to shake.

"Vendras Volur-Dreth, and this is my husband Romlyn."

"It's a pleasure, sirs. I hope you enjoy your visit to Raven Rock." It felt unnatural to be this diplomatic. She strongly desired to be informally cordial.

Soon the familiar chitin-clad mercenary emerged from the darkness of his lodgings. He reached his arms up in a stretch and a sickening pop from his spine reverberated throughout the bar. He acknowledged the couple with a nod and then turned his attention to Indira. 

"Young lady, it's morning and you're already at the bar?" It wasn't clear if he was scathing or kidding. Either way, the petite girl was annoyed.

"Ugh! Teldryn, please!"

He laughed coldly and proceeded past her to his perch on the upper level of the tavern.

"Anyways," Indira cleared her throat. "The fourth annual Raven Rock Carnival is setting up in a few days, and we'd love for you to be there to enjoy the festivities." She didn't bother mentioning her own performance for fear of sounding conceited. 

"Yeah your faceless friend mentioned it to us last night," Romlyn said. 

"Oh?" She had a peculiar type of surprise wash onto her smooth marble gray face, but they didn't understand why. "Well, I hope to see you both there."

Indira then left the men to their breakfast and returned upstairs to meet with Teldryn. She didn't know why he of all people would care to tell anyone about a silly carnival, but she didn't mention it to him. 

"Where's Throm?" she asked, not that she gave a damn where that insufferable giant elf was. 

Teldryn grunted. "Hmph. I'm sure he'll be up at the crack of noon or later as always."

She took a seat beside him. She looked to be troubled by something but he didn't want to impose, and remained silent. However he didn't have to ask as tears flowed over her cheekbones, dripping like rain.

"What's wrong?" Teldryn didn't know what else to say. 

"I'm tired of being a burden on everyone around me. I want to do things, but I'm not allowed to do anything for myself. I don't even know how to use fire magic. What Dunmer doesn't know fire magic? I can't defend myself. I don't know how to use tools. I don't know anything. I feel...I feel like I've been held back my entire life. I don't want to marry some snobbish House Dunmer I've never met and kiss his smelly ashy feet...I want to just...I want to just live my life."

Her sudden unloading of words hit him like turbulent storm. And he had to admit that he even felt a little sorry for her. She was young, but not so young that she should have been completely helpless, and anyone else her age would not have been bothered by living the rich life. And for some reason like an insane buffoon he made an absurd offer to her.

"I could teach you some things."

She was just as stupefied as he was. "What?"

"I said 'I'll. Teach. You.'"

"Wow, Teldryn. I...I don't know what to say." She wiped her face on the sleeve of her robes. "You'd risk your job and your life to do that for me?"

"Why not? Nothing better to do," he responded in his usual way. It irritated her, but it also made her overwhelmingly happy.

"No one can find out. What about Thromwatch? You think he'd rat us out?"

"No you don't have to worry about him. You just focus on your recital this week. I'll handle things." What was he getting himself into? It was in the agreement that he was to distract Indira and keep her on the straight and narrow. What could it hurt? But he couldn't understand why any of this was necessary for an adult woman. It didn't matter. He didn't need to know, as he kept the clinking of coin on his mind.


	5. Chapter 5

Raven Rock was as lively as the market square in Solitude. Many delightful smells of goodies delighted the nostrils. Dunmeri children darted from every which way full of excitement and sheer bliss, entertaining themselves with games and treats. The parents of said children enjoyed a vacation from the mundane, as did the Volur-Dreth couple.

Romlyn presented Vendras with a honey nut treat on a stick, and he accepted happily.

“Having fun?”

“Yes.” Vendras munched contently. “It's nice. Haven't had anything like this for awhile back in Skyrim with the civil war still going on.”

Hand in hand, they meandered past the array of entertainers, sword swallowers, and fire eaters, buying more snacks for one another along the way until they happened upon a tent filled with many cages and exotic creatures. Romlyn paused abruptly and with surprisingly brute strength grabbed Vendras by the front of his robes and yanked him around to see what he saw. “Ven! Look!”

“Romlyn, what on Nirn?!”

Noticing the enthused elf straight away, a Khajiit rose from her bench to address him. She was wearing a purple shemagh around her head, her pointed bobcat like ears ornate with many gold hoops stuck out of the top. “Does red-eyed one see something he likes?” Her velvety feline voice was comforting and hospitable.

“What are all these animals?” Vendras said to himself with wonder, his interest piqued as they walked deeper into the tent. There was an array of wild things he'd never seen before, some insect like and others looked like they came straight from the Oblivion realms. Another male Khajiit rested inside, but he did not speak. Romlyn stood in front of the cage that caught his attention. Within the confines, stood a bipedal reptilian creature about the size of a small hound, resembling a whole roast chicken with the face of a lizard.

“What is that?” Vendras asked out loud. It looked familiar, but he wasn't certain. The tabby cat face of the Khajiit woman showed surprise. “Red-eyed one does not know? Ah, perhaps creature was before tragic time, yes?”

Romlyn's excitement swelled and love befell him at the sight of this unique creature. “Ven, this is a guar. A baby.”

So this was a guar. Vendras recalled the tale of Romlyn's late pet.

“How have you come to possess him?” Romlyn squatted to get a closer look, putting his fingers between the bars to tickle the animal's nose. It seemed to crave the attention as it flapped it's nubby arms.

The woman explained, her tail flicking contently like a house cat on a window sill. “Sarai travels all over Tamriel with brother J'arr to study wildlife. Some think creatures have died out, but we find them. We mate them and increase numbers so they may thrive once again. Red Mountain tragedy took life of many innocent beasts. The work of Khajiit pleases Ius.”

Romlyn wasn't remotely paying attention as he played with the guar in the cage, baby talking to it and telling it how precious and cute it was. Vendras cracked a smile. It was rare to see Romlyn so excited. He didn't even speak to babies in such a manner, in fact he scoffed at the thought of a child be it man or mer, but he had no shame in shrieking and babbling sheer nonsense to this caged iguana-chicken. He'd already had fallen in love and Vendras knew there would be no way he could walk away from that pavillion empty handed without breaking Romlyn's heart. However, he wanted to hear more from these conservationists and continued to ask questions. Their cause was noble and they accepted offerings and donations to continue their zoological and conservation studies, but it seemed these animals were for education only and not for purchase. Vendras thanked Sarai and J'arr for their efforts and the information they provided him. He dropped a handsome sum of coins in their donation jar, and he and Romlyn went on their way.

Romlyn looked like he wanted to cry when he had to part ways from his new buddy. Vendras couldn't bear to see his disheartenment and wondered if there was anything he could do to convince the Khajiit to part with the guar. “Wait here,” he said to him and went back into the tent. Romlyn stood in the middle of the ashy street, unsure how to act.

“I understand what you do is very important. But my husband grew up in Morrowind during a time where these creatures were still plentiful, and it has been a very long time since he's seen a guar. Perhaps you could part with just this one?”

The cat-woman sighed, though she did feel sympathy. “So sorry, fire-haired one. Animals not for sale.”

Vendras suddenly felt impulsive. “Two hundred gold. How about that?”

“I cannot, friend.”

Desperation overwhelmed him. “Five hundred gold. Take it or leave it.”

Sarai's heart nearly stopped. She did consider the gold would help them feed and provide optimal care for the rest of their menagerie. J'arr who had heard the offer also seemed to consider it, but he didn't answer, not really one for talking.

“Five hundred shiny coins.” Vendras expressed confidently as he dangled the leather pouch in front of them, shaking lightly and jingling the contents.

The siblings consulted in their own language until they reached a conclusion, and Sarai approached the elf. “Khajiit have decided to trust dark elf. On one condition!” Her brother gave her a book from his knapsack, which she then placed into Vendras's hands. “You read book and learn all about guar, yes? Creature must be cared for adequately for best health and long life.”

Vendras could barely believe they agreed to let the guar go. It was an expensive investment, but at that moment he just wanted to make his husband happy. “I can assure you, this little one will be loved and cared for immensely.” He glanced back at Romlyn, who was still bemused in the street, the crowds flowing around him like he was a pebble in a brook.

J'arr unlocked the cage and placed the guar into Vendras's hands. Not only did it look like a plucked chicken, but it felt like one too, which made his skin crawl. He thanked the Khajiit profusely and returned to Romlyn, still speechless as he then gave the guar to him, happy to relieve himself of the bizarre bumpy, scaly feel of the foreign animal. It flapped its arms again and nuzzled into Romlyn's shirt.

“Vendras, I...I don't know what to say.”

He kissed his forehead. “We've been discussing getting a pet for awhile. Now's a good a time as any for one.”

“This is the best! I love you so much, Vendras!” He hugged him tightly with the guar squished between them. It didn't seem to mind being sandwiched between the love of its new fathers. Romlyn's happiness was most important to Vendras in that moment and he knew that little guar would have a good life.

“What shall we name him?” Romlyn asked, holding him up to look at his beady little reptile eyes.

Vendras scratched his head awkwardly. “He looks like a chicken wing. I don't think I'm the best one to name him. Whatever you come up with is fine.”

“I'm gonna call you Stumps! I love you Stumps! Who's a good boy?”

That was quick, Vendras thought. The people around them started filing out of tents and stalls to attend the evening's main event. “I guess we'll follow and see what's going on,” he said. Romlyn stuck Stumps under his arm and they filed into the crowd.

***

Teldryn sighed heavily. It was strange to get dressed to go out without full armor. It had been so long he had nearly forgotten what his own face looked like as he straightened his mohawk in the mirror. Even though he hadn't aged much over the decades, he thought he appeared old. Maybe he wasn't that bad, but he certainly felt it in his bones. A narrow slate gray face with frowning arched eyebrows gazed back at him. He had purplish bags under his garnet eyes. Sleep? What was that mythical beast?

He avoided the hustle and bustle of the carnival for most of the day, happy to have the entire tavern to himself after Geldis shut down to sell his brew at the bazaar, desolate and quiet. Alas, it was nearing time for Indira's performance and he didn't want to miss it. Actually, he didn't want to miss it for anything, and he didn't know why. After everything, the girl seemed troubled to him, and it sounded like it meant a lot to her for him to be there. Teldryn didn't see himself as her friend, but she treated him as one regardless of the situation. Maybe he and Thromwatch _were_ her only friends, he thought. It certainly felt that way. Who else did she spend time with when most of it was at home or with them? There was something sad about the whole thing, but he didn't want to delve into it. Just a job, he told himself. Tonight he was a mere stranger passing through.

Teldryn Sero exited the back door of The Retching Netch. Thankfully, the entirety of Raven Rock clustered near the stage, so no one saw him, and he could ease himself into the crowd. The silt felt different beneath soft leather boots after being accustomed to the hardended chitin grieves, his feet didn't know how to react to comfort. A breeze sifted through his native styled shirt, a delightful change from being soaked head to toe in sweat in the confines of armor. No one would recognize him. At least if he didn't speak, no one would, but it was no hassle to act as a silent passerby. He neared the crowd and took a seat on a piece of a broken basalt column, like it was a chair conveniently placed there for him. He crossed his arms and did some people-watching for awhile. He recognized a majority of the faces from within the settlement. Some of the Skaal from the northern village attended, and he had to squint to see him, but even the young apprentice Talvas of Tel Mithryn managed to remove himself from the stranglehold of the master Telvanni wizard Neloth. Teldryn shook his head and chortled to himself. He hated to see what experiment poor Talvas would be subject to when he got home.

Not too far from where he was seated, he discovered Red and Sourpuss, and now a funny animal in their midst, laughing together and overflowing with joy. _Is that a guar? Where did they get a guar?_ he wondered. Teldryn grinned. Even though he had only just met them, it was obvious how in love they were, their presence soothed him in a way. A welcome change to the wretchedness of Raven Rock.

Throm, the hulking bronze-gold elf stood out like a sore thumb amongst the primarily Dunmer crowd. Not surprisingly, he wore his ebony armor, with his trusty bow on his back. His role was bodyguard this evening. Edris and Melvosa Andrelo were responsible for funding and hosting the carnival for a few years now, a pleasant event for a dull mining town. Even beside the Councillor, Second Councillor and their families, they were over dressed as if they were royalty. These were their employers. The unspoken King and Queen of Solstheim.

Young Lady Indira ascended the stairs to the wooden stage and the eruption of applause began from the section her parents were seated and spread throughout the gathering. There was something different about her, an elegance that Teldryn never noticed before, a chilling hopelessness on her face. She wasn't nervous about her performance, it was something else. The way her head of luxurious braided hair turned and panned over the crowd. She was searching for him, and the disappointment washed over her when she did not see his familiar chitin helmet anywhere. Teldryn's heart sunk in a way he'd never experienced before. He wished there was a way to let her know he was there to cheer her on.

_Teldryn, where are you? You said you'd be here..._

Indira's pinkish red eyes darted in all directions.

_He lied..._

_No, Indira, don't do this to yourself. You're just overlooking him. Focus._

The lute player began the intro to the opening song. The people of Solstheim fell immediately silent, watchful and respectful eyes all upon her, her powerful alto voice rang within the walls of the bulwark.

Teldryn had to pick his jaw off the ground after the resonance of the first note. Who was this woman? This wasn't the Indira who drunkenly shrieked bar songs waving a flagon with her hand on an unsuspecting man's thigh.

The first song grabbed everyone's attention. The subsequent songs were upbeat for dancing, but her final song, an original she had written herself, gripped all their hearts. The haunting tune paired with melodious flute carried on the wind through the hills. It was a song of longing, of love, and of sorrow.

Teldryn crossed her mind again as she felt her words within her very soul. She caught her voice wavering, but she collected herself. Maybe he was behind someone and she couldn't see him.

The emotion in her lyrics struck Teldryn hard. In a way, it reminded him of himself. It hurt him to look at her now. He turned away and he caught Red and Sourpuss with their lips locked. It helped ground him a bit. What was Indira's story? Why did she love so intensely and suffer such loss? Her siren voice enchanted him, yet he couldn't endure it any longer. He turned his back to her, to the crowd, and made for the seclusion of the vacant Retching Netch to dwell on his convoluted emotions.

Upon completion of her song, Indira did not bow or curtsy as intended. She had to get away from that place. _Why are you so torn up? Look at yourself, Indira. You're a fool. An embarrassment._

She nearly tripped herself on the steps as she darted away. The people were confused. Vendras and Romlyn looked at one another with perplexity as the little elven woman pushed passed them. Teldryn's back was turned and he hadn't seen her run away from the stage. She stumbled and nearly knocked him over, but with quick reflexes he whipped around and caught the woman. Their eyes met. He'd never been this close to her face before, not like this. Her tears poured uncontrollably. He desired to speak, but he'd give himself away. All he could do was stare in silence.

Indira melted in the muscular arms of this handsome stranger with deep garnet eyes and a piercing gaze that would make the dead scream and tremble. His flesh was the color of slate, his narrow face framed by blue symmetrical tattoos on his cheeks that wrapped around his exaggerated Dunmer browline, ebony-black arched eyebrows and long lashes darkly lining those slanted crimson gems. His ears appeared to be longer against his shaven head, his mohawk hair stood perky and shiny in the light of the lamps. A neatly trimmed goatee framed his plump pouting lips. Such an unconventional fairy tale prince.

Indira snapped back to reality and leapt from his loose hold, apologizing frantically. “I'm sorry!” She sprinted away. She didn't care where she went. She just wanted to cry.

Thromwatch ran up beside this drifter. “Which way did she go?”

Teldryn pointed. His own comrade had no idea who he even was. The massive elf growled in annoyance and chased after the girl.

The dark elf mercenary decided this was the best time to sneak back home while no one was looking. He rushed through the back door and ran inside swiftly, locking the door to his room behind him. The poor girl was devastated because she thought her friend let her down.

Teldryn's knuckles met fiercely with the wall. “FUCK!” He didn't understand why he continued to hide his face. Perhaps he was insecure. He didn't have anything to fear anymore. So many years had passed, how could anyone remember him? His insecurities completely destroyed a person. And he actually _cared_. He cared deeply. Why? Why was it so hard to be cold to her? He was losing his damn mind.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was up late and took forever to finish this chapter, so if it's wacky, don't hesitate to let me know. I edit my own works.

The wind howled against the curves of the house outside. A nasty mix of storms had rolled in quickly from the east. Vendras propped his feet on the ottoman, a cup of tea in hand. Romlyn grumbled to himself in the background as he mopped guar droppings from the floor. “No! Bad Stumps!” The creature zoomed around the room shrieking madly, weaving between Romlyn's legs. He threw an apple just to distract the guar so he could clean the mess. “The Dragonborn is going to Thu'um me to mince meat if he comes back to a house reeking of shit! _N'chow_! You'd think those furballs would have house trained him.”

Vendras grimaced as he caught a whiff of the pungent odor. Stumps ran to him, dropped his apple, squawked so loudly that it startled him, and resumed his frenzy. “Why is he acting so crazy?”

“He's a baby. He wants to play. GODS DAMMIT TO OBLIVION STUMPS GET OUT OF THAT BASKET! IT DOESN'T BELONG TO YOU!”

Vendras had never been more thankful in his life that neither of them wanted children if it was anything like this experience.

“You're lucky you're adorable, because I'd send you straight to the moons!”

An abrubt crack of thunder from outside rattled the entire house, frightening Stumps and sending him into a leap straight into Romlyn's arms. He tried to bury himself in his shirt and whimpered. Both Dunmer nearly jumped out of their own skin at the clamorous crash.

“What the—?!” Vendras exclaimed, heart pounding. He cracked the front door to peek outside but couldn't see a thing as ash and rain swirled together. “It's not safe to go out. Hopefully this storm dies down soon. That didn't sound normal.”

Romlyn did his best to console Stumps, who quivered in terror.

In an hour or so, the storm cleared away, the people of Raven Rock collectively checking from their residence windows and doors to see if it had passed and return to their daily rituals as usual. Stumps managed to climb onto Romlyn's head gripping tightly with his talons. “Ow, that hurts!” The silt beneath their feet had become a mushy, sticky mess from the rain and it was slippery to walk in.

A few of the Redoran guards as well as the Councilors had grouped together at the harbor with the sailors. Vendras and Romlyn followed suit to see what the commotion was about. In the water, The Northern Maiden was now capsized and broken completely in half. Gjalund mourned loudly and aggressively about his demolished ship.

“Oh my goodness, what happened?” Vendras asked incredulously. Captain Veleth, leader of the Redoran guard responded to him, scratching his head. He was just as surprised as any of them. “We suspect that monumental jolt of lightning severed the boat in half. There are some singe marks as evidence of that, but...I...I've never seen anything like this in all my years.”

Gjalund could be heard in the near distance cursing and complaining about lost cargo among other things.

“By Azura!” Romlyn panicked. “Ven! How are we going to get home? There are no other ships in the harbor!”

“And it will be some time before another comes along to even get so much as a letter out to Windhelm. The Northern Maiden was our primary delivery service.” Captain Veleth sympathized with the couple.

Vendras rummaged through his pockets and found four gold pieces. “How are you on money?”

Romlyn tucked Stumps under his left arm to use his dominant hand to sift around in his clothes. All he had left were thirty one septims.

“I spent our gold to get you Stumps. We're stuck here. We're going to have to find some work in the meantime to pay the rent at the manor.”

“So sorry about this gentlemen,” said Veleth. “Best of luck to you both and do try to enjoy the rest of your indefinite stay. Don't be afraid to ask if you need anything.”

Vendras and Romlyn consulted with Gjalund. They were dead in the water in a disturbingly literal sense. Torbjorn would surely worry about all of them, especially when it was a good portion of his employees, but all they could do was wait for their ship to sail in, whenever that would be.

Teldryn took his usual seat in the upper floor of the tavern. Another day in paradise. His new favorite pair entered the establishment not long after, both of them stricken with discontent, the juvenile guar stuffed into a messenger bag at Sourpuss's side. There was no way he was about to ignore them with that kind of negative attitude so out of character for them. “Why the long face, Red?” he asked, genuine concern in his typically sardonic tone.

Vendras pursed his lips and didn't hesitate to answer. “The lightning from earlier completely obliterated our only way home and we're broke.”

“Eh, what's home anyway?” Teldryn said, although he fondly remembered Blacklight as he said it. “I took you two for the adventuring types anyhow. You might just find that here. Depends on the day.” He wasn't sure it cheered them up exactly, but he felt noble to at the very least attempt it. He waved his chitin-clad hand over the table. “Sit, outlanders. Have a few drinks on me.”

Romlyn's mouth parted slightly as he was about to object, but said nothing after Vendras already took up a chair.

“New addition to the family, I see?” Teldryn nodded his goggled helmet at the baby guar. “I haven't seen a guar in a hundred years or so.

“His name is Stumps,” Romlyn said proudly. Stumps wriggled in the satchel like he knew they were talking about him. “Ven got him for me at the wildlife exhibit at the carnival.”

Teldryn chuckled a bit. “Well, isn't that sweet of him.” He couldn't remember the last time anyone gave him a present.

A server interrupted briefly to pass them some drinks and Teldryn made small talk with the couple. Sourpuss loosened up, but Teldryn could tell he was still suspicious of him. He took the time to observe them now that they were beside him. Romlyn, who was indeed a Sourpuss, as Teldryn affectionately referred to him, but that look was not uncommon for a Dunmer, even he himself was guilty of the resting scowl. But he could tell by the crows feet and laugh lines that Romlyn spent a lot of his life enjoying himself. He was a working elf, judging by the texture of his sun-weathered skin and the roughness of his hands. Age was more difficult to pinpoint with Dunmer, but if he had to guess, he was older than the freakishly large dark elf beside him, who had immaculate pewter skin. The only noticeable flaw on Vendras were the triad of clawmarks just beneath his left eye, which left Teldryn wondering. He remembered what he had said as he scolded his partner during their first conversation, which led Teldryn to speculate that he obtained those markings in an unsavory manner, but he was otherwise an astonishingly attractive gentleman with his soft features. There was an aura of benevolence surrounding him that attracted Teldryn. The way he spoke gave Teldryn the impression that Vendras was a man of high intellect, while Romlyn was a crass little spitfire, though not the least bit lacking in intelligence, but he was easy to tease, which Teldryn found extremely entertaining. Both Dunmer were unique, which was probably why he was so intrigued by them in the first place.

“...I just don't know what we're going to do to pay our rent until another ship arrives,” Vendras said anxiously.

His desperation dismayed Teldryn. “Perhaps you can talk to my employer. They surely have some work for you.”

Vendras passed a look to Romlyn to see if he'd approve. He didn't expect him to, but there was no other option, and he nodded silently in acceptance.

Teldryn smiled beneath his cowl. “The Andrelo residence is right across from Severin Manor where you're staying. I can take you there. I have to pick up the brat soon, anyway.”

They didn't have to guess he was speaking of Indira. He kindly paid for their meals and drinks and lead the way, which wasn't far. He brought them inside, and Thromwatch was there, glowering disgustedly with his eyes orange like embers in a fire. “What are you doing with _them_?”

“They're shit out of luck and they need help, if that's all right with you 'boss.'” Teldryn responded cockily.

“Tch,” Throm scoffed.

Teldryn pursed his lips. “You'll be fine. They promise not to get any of their spunk on you.” He only knew how to respond to negativity with quips. Then he brought his new companions to the living room where Edris and Melvosa were having afternoon tea. Edris was an average sized Dunmer man with salt and pepper hair, his dark red elf eyes were slanted slightly and his face was long and sloped like someone had pulled downward on his pointed chin. Melvosa was skinny and frail, with bony wrists and neck overencumbered with golden bangles and necklaces. Her face reminded Romlyn of a Dunmer version of Maven Black-Briar, with a permanent expression of malice. Her long black hair was tied high atop her head and waterfalled over her bare shoulders.

“Pardon the intrusion, _sedura,_ ” Teldryn gave a brief but respectful bow.

“Ah, Master Sero, what have we here?” Edris asked. He attempted to be polite, but it came off as snooty.

Teldryn explained the circumstances to them. They didn't give much thought before they agreed.

“Yes, darlings, of course we'll give you some work to do.” Melvosa tried much too hard to pretend she was altruistic.

Neither Vendras nor Romlyn felt comfortable, but they were the most affluent family on the island. It was a best case scenario. After having both worked for Maven, they hoped it wouldn't be a repeat of that fiasco. They've had quite enough of the wealthy elite, and even Torbjorn Shatter-Shield was too much for them in some cases working at the docks. Vendras was thankful they were close and was able to talk Torbjorn into treating his Argonian workers with more decency. Since they were all Dunmer, it was liable to be a more tolerable time.

Indira descended the stairs when she heard Teldryn's voice. She was dressed in old clothes for romping around in and had worn in tall boots on to protect her feet from the volcanic ash. “There you are! I've been waiting all morning for you so I can go out!” She nagged. Before he could respond to her, she greeted Vendras and Romlyn and baby talked to the cute little guar in the satchel.

“I've been here,” Thromwatch interjected. “Why didn't you ask me?”

Indira shrugged. She didn't want to hurt his feelings even though she didn't like him. But she and Teldryn had other plans for the day.

“Where are you off to _this_ time?” Melvosa inquired.

“To do the same boring things I do every day, mother” she sighed in annoyance.

“Fine then. Just take it easy with the drinking please. Did you have your tea this morning?”

“Yeah?” She didn't understand why it was a big deal for her to drink tea every morning, but her mother insisted.

“All right. Carry on with your day then.”

She wanted to leave as quicky as possible and yanked Teldryn by the arm causing him to lose his balance. His farewell to Vendras and Romlyn was cut extremely short as she pulled him through the threshold of the living room and out the front door. Once outside, she sighed heavily again, speaking to herself. “By the three, I'm so glad to be out of that house. I can't take much more.” Then turned her attention to Teldryn. “Do you have everything we need?”

“Indeed we do,” the chitin-clad Dunmer nodded. They made their way out of the bulwark back to the abandoned shack a little way outside of town, the same place she chose to go to when she was stressed or far too intoxicated. The two of them never once mentioned the performance at the carnival to one another, so Teldryn figured he wouldn't bother bringing it up unless it became an issue. Now he would honor his promise to teach her magic and combat so that she could protect herself in the event her protectors couldn't be there for her. It wasn't her fault she was so sheltered. He felt pity for the poor thing.

No one would hear or see them where they set up her “training ground.” Thankfully, Thromwatch was usually too lazy to check in there. He left Teldryn take care of her most of the time anyway. He usually tended to Edris and Melvosa's requests for extra septims. As for Teldryn, he found Indira much less obnoxious, regardless of her questionable behavior. Over time, he started to understand why she acted that way.

He uncovered an ash-buried chest in which he hid weapons and books and started tossing things to Indira. “There you are, young lady. Take your pick. What do you want to start with?”

The young woman's mind overloaded with the options he provided and couldn't make up a decision.

“How about this?” He gave her the shortsword he pulled out of the box and drew his elven blade from his belt. “This is where my skill lies.”

Indira and Teldryn spent hours out there training. They did so much that even he wore out first, but she wanted to continue because she was having so much fun.

“Enough, girl. Give me a moment. I'm old. I don't have the stamina I used to have,” he huffed as he slid down the wall to sit, sweat poured from him and trailed down his chest and back. It felt like he was suffocating and it was difficult to get air from behind his cowl.

Indira decided a break was good and sat beside him. He'd never seen her so overjoyed and it was a nice change to see her sober and having a good healthy time. “You okay?” she asked with concern as she watched his chest heave.

“Fine. Just...warm.”

“Take off your helmet. Cool off.” She could see his glowing red eyes behind the goggles of his chitin helmet longing to see what was hidden from her sight.

“Not a chance,” he said.

“Why?”

“No reason.”

“Pfft.” She let it go and changed the subject. “This was really fun. Thank you.”

Her authenticity caught him off guard. “You're welcome”

Her entire attitude had changed. She seemed brighter, happier, and he liked this side of her. As time went on, something seemed off in that household, and Teldryn couldn't fathom what it was, but he suspected her parents had much to do with it. It was peculiar to have to babysit an adult woman. Edris and Melvosa were rather cold and uncaring for people who wanted their daughter watched constantly, and the apparent disconnect channeled through Indira. No one that young and full of life should have been so miserable that she needed to drown her feelings. It was starting to make sense. Something bigger must have been going on.

_It's just a job, Teldryn. Don't get involved._

“Would you like to keep doing this?” he asked her.

Indira laughed. “Of course. For as long as we can. I like it. I feel powerful.”

Teldryn chuckled. “Don't let it get to your head.” He remembered the other day when she fell into his arms and got a close look at her face. He looked at her now, with her blissful round face, dirty from sweat and ash, and she was more lovely than he'd ever seen her. He wanted to see more of this.

“Maybe fire tomorrow?” she chirped enthusiastically.

“You think you're ready for fire?”

“I don't know, what do you think?”

He smirked, even though she couldn't see him. “All right. I think that can be arranged.”

She threw her arms around his neck. He suddenly became self-conscious that he stunk.

“This is the most fun I've ever had in my life.” The underlying pain in those words devastated Teldryn. He wasn't afraid of what would happen if he was caught teaching her forbidden knowledge. Hiding his identity came in handy hundreds of other times, if another thing to add to the tally came along, it would be worth it. It pleased him to make someone happy for once.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains some unsavory subject matter immediately, just an FYI.

Another springtime thunderstorm passed over Raven Rock. The compact room in The Retching Netch was stuffy and humid, the air pungent with the stench of sweat, sex, and disgrace as Thromwatch forced the girl's face into the mattress and pulled her yellow-blonde hair. He could never remember her name, but she was his favorite whore.

“Ungh! Throm!” She gasped, her voice muted by the sheets as he brutally slammed his pelvis into her from the back. It felt like she was going to split in two.

“You bitch!” He snarled and yanked her head back again and gnawed ravenously at her neck. “Tell me what you think of me.” His hot breath fragrant with the sweetness of moon sugar seeped into her ear.

“You're scum! I fucking hate you!” she yelped.

“Say it again,” he huffed between violent thrusts.

“I hate you, you piece of shit!” She hissed.

“Yes...” he moaned. He was getting close. “You're a filthy little slut, aren't you?”

The Dunmeri concubine groaned seductively, on the cusp of agony and orgasm. “I'm your little slut, Throm.” He dug his long fingers into her hips and pulled her rotund rear into him. He begged her to utter his name and to spit venom at him and she heeded his request. It made him climax so turbulently his entire body shuddered hard. He stewed in their fluids for a time so he could regain his bearings and he tapped her wordlessly to signify he wanted her on her back. He knew she didn't come yet. He crammed three of his massive fingers into her crevice, displacing his own emissions mixed with hers as he slithered his tongue over her clitoris, making her squirm. It baffled her that he even bothered to finish her off. He was the only client of hers it even mattered to. The rest blew their wad and left.

The harlot gripped his strawberry blonde hair and pushed his face into her, intense orange wicked eyes glared up at her to see the arousal on her face. In a matter of moments, her walls tightened around his digits, crushing them like a hungry maw, and her secretions cascaded onto his palm and wrist. The girl cried out in rapture so loud he had to cup his hand over her mouth.

When she was done, he wiped the cocktail of fluids from his lips onto his forearm and pulled himself up beside her with exhausted and strained effort. He attempted to wrap his arms around her, but she already rose to clean up and gather her clothing. Tenderness was not her strong suit and she had no interest cuddling with her clientele.

“Why do you always have to leave right away?”

“You know why,” the pale Dunmeri woman stated. Her eyes were so deep crimson they were nearly black, her hair was like a golden wheat field. “Gold?” She slipped the short sleeves of her chiffon dress up over her shoulders.

Throm the hefty bronze elf laid in his bed completely exposed with a lingering partial erection and soaked head to toe in perspiration. He exhaled through his nose in scorn and tossed her his bag of coins. “Take extra if you want. I don't really care.” His tone was abnormally disappointed for someone who got exactly what he paid for. The lady of pleasure suffered some guilt, but it was part of the job. She said nothing more on the topic. “I'll see you around. Maybe I'll bring the other one you like with me next time. I know you love watching us together.” The disheveled young woman crept out the door with that added afterthought. Geldis already knew she was a prostitute, but didn't care as a man had needs, especially a man as despised as Thromwatch Aelsinthar.

Throm hadn't altered his position as he stared at the ceiling, tornadoes of thoughts whirled within his mind. In his heightened emotional state, he erupted into tears. It was a nightly ritual. He had no real friends, no family, no one to love him. He didn't want love or companionship anyway. He didn't think he deserved it. So he resorted to hate-fucking whores. Whenever he tried to be warm with them, he was always denied, so he assumed that's just how life and relationships were meant to be. What was the point of existence and why in the name of Oblivion did elves have to live so damned long just to suffer?

He pictured the Dunmer outlanders kissing one another at the table across from him several days ago. He wanted to be disgusted at such abhorrent, unnatural behavior, but in reality resentment had its stranglehold on him. Every time he saw any expression of love, it made him sick to his stomach. It was all a beguiling Illusion spell. It had to be. Things like that simply don't exist on Nirn. And now he'd be seeing them on a daily basis. He wasn't sure what to make of it.

And he couldn't help but surmise something weird was going on between Indira and Teldryn, but he couldn't figure out for the life of him what it was. Neither of them acted right since the carnival, an odd almost tangible tension in the air when they were in the same room together. Throm wondered if he should bring it up with the Andrelos or let it be. Either way, he didn't know too much about the situation. He'd need something solid to go on beforehand anyway. He didn't even care. It was all about the money. It didn't matter how much or how little he did, he got paid, as long as Indira was kept in line and didn't venture too far beyond the walls of the bulwark. He thought he did a fairly decent job of it even if he was a known underachiever. But he knew for certain the girl didn't like him, which made it so much easier to pass the burden onto Teldryn. He handled everything better anyway. He was patient and understanding.

Teldryn. That grayskin bastard. Why did he hide his face like that? What did he have to worry about? He was quite possibly the strongest person on the island besides Master Neloth and even Throm would pay the devil his due on that one. But he never once caught even the smallest glimpse of his face. The only thing he could ever envision of him was that stupid crablike armor and that obnoxious whining drawl. Throm wanted to hate him too, but it was impossible. No matter how he behaved, Teldryn always treated him with respect. As a friend, even. He always joked with him and made sarcastic remarks, but there was an acute friendliness behind them that Throm couldn't comprehend. Throm only knew how to push people away, and maybe it was only because they were employed together, but somehow Teldryn was always there to help if he needed him—whether he liked it or not. Regardless of his strange attitude lately, Throm didn't think he could ever do anything to betray him. There was just something about him. Maybe he _did_ have a friend and didn't realize.

Growing up in the Summerset Isles had been an unending nightmare for Throm, especially during his early teens and twenties. He was nothing like an Altmer should have been. He possessed no interest in the arcane or history or even his own ancestors. His parents despised him and never supported him in any of his endeavors. His dream had been to join the Fighter's Guild and become a master of weapons. Though he did his best, he was never quite cut out for that either.

But he supposed he did have a friend once. Someone who was always there for him when he was hurting. The one who had taught him to be the best at archery. Now Thromwatch was perhaps the greatest marksman in all of Tamriel, and even his worst enemy would admit it. But he just couldn't remember...what was his name? How did this period in his life get completely eradicated from his timeline? The bow he carried on his back had been a gift from this beloved person and he hated himself that he could not remember him...his face was a blur, his voice had been skewed from hearing so many others over the centuries. What was his damned _name_?! How was it possible to for anyone to forget their fondest friend?

Needless to say, Throm's family did not approve of his passion for physical combat, and made him stay in Summerset to complete his schooling. He never did pass the tests. He was nothing but a disappointment and a disgrace, especially when he began to form his own opinion on politics. The Altmer really hated when anyone worshipped gods that were not their own, and Thromwatch didn't get it. It didn't matter to him in the slightest if the Nords worshipped Talos, or if the Dunmer worshipped the Tribunal or the Daedra. It wasn't his responsibility to worry about anyone else's sins or where they chose to spend their afterlife—if it was even real in the first place. He didn't much give a shit about how the Empire ran the show, either. He didn't think the provinces were united under their rule, only oppressed, and he hated the Thalmor with every fiber of his being.

Unfortunately he remembered the night he expressed those opinions, oh did he ever. He relived it often. His father beat him within an inch of his life, and his docile mother allowed it to happen...so he despised her too. He remembered the metallic taste of blood in his mouth...the shards of broken teeth. Tears trapped behind swollen eyes and he struggled to breathe from his irritated sinuses and collapsed lung as he hyperventilated. The young Thromwatch Aelsinthar wept pitifully on the floor of his bedroom in a puddle of his own blood and piss...praying for death. Praying to whichever deity, Aedra or Daedra, would end his suffering. It never came.

Throm had been sentenced to death for doing what he did to his parents. He didn't kill them...but he returned the love they'd given him that night. He broke out of prison and he ran, a fugitive of the law. It took him years to travel as far east as he could. Now he was on Solstheim, not even a small fraction of the man he desired to be, but it would have to do.

Throm often wondered if Teldryn was in the same predicament as he was. Whether he'd ever find out or not he never knew. He didn't have the ability to get close to anyone anymore. His past, present, and hopeless future nagged at him until his despair lulled him to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Vendras popped his boots off his swollen, aching feet with a great amount of strain. He couldn't recall a time he'd worked so hard. Once he'd gotten comfortable and settled in, he'd remembered that they had their own upkeep to do in their rental home.

“Romlyn?”

“Yes, _daelha_?” He was at the wash basin scrubbing his hands and arms.

“It was your turn to empty the refuse container today.”

Romlyn grumbled irritably. “Gah! Ven, do you know how sick of shit buckets I am today? What have those people been eating? And between you and me, that Indira's was the worst one!”

Vendras grimaced, his apology genuine, and desperation in his voice. “I'm sorry, sweetheart. My back and my feet are killing me. I guess they assumed from my stature that I enjoy heavy lifting up flights and flights of stairs. This is the first I've sat all day.”

Romlyn sighed in irritation. “It's not too full, is it? Can it wait till tomorrow?”

Vendras massaged his temples and groaned lazily. “It stinks, but I suppose I can let you off the hook.”

“Mephala cloak you, Ven!” With relief, he dropped his body carelessly beside his husband. They rested their heads together, weary, miserable, and grateful to finally catch a break. Stumps hopped in their laps, spun in a few circles and nested in the small gap where their thighs nearly touched. He didn't exactly smell the greatest either, and Vendras's impulse to obtain him made him entirely responsible for why they needed to work in the first place, but he made Romlyn happy, so Vendras let it be. Romlyn's happiness was priceless.

“I think we were more dignified at the meadery,” Romlyn said.

“I think you're right,” Vendras agreed. “Not to worry, darling. Hopefully we'll be back to our easy desk jobs at the docks soon. You're too handsome to handle Dunmer feces.”

“Does that mean _you're_ gonna clean the bucket tomorrow?” he joked.

“Romlyn!” He pushed him gently and they both laughed. With any amount of luck, they'd be on a boat straight back to the wharf at Windhelm.

***

Indira awoke and tossed her covers aside, eager to begin her day. She dressed in her dirty, ashy clothes, tucking the bottom of her trousers into the boots before lacing them up to her knee. She stopped in the kitchen for a bite to eat. Her skinny mother Melvosa sat at the counter eating a single buttered biscuit.

“Good morning, darling,” she greeted.

“Good morning, mother,” Indira responded emotionlessly as she assembled a sandwich out of a variety of foods from the pantry.

Melvosa tossed a medley of herbs into a tea cup and poured hot water from a kettle over them and presented the cup to her daughter. “Don't forget your tea, dear.”

The petite Dunmer woman rolled her eyes. She had grown tired of the monotony and strict routine of her life. “Why do I have to drink this every day?”

Melvosa seemed annoyed that she would even question her authority, but she eased herself back to respond in such a way her daughter would not rebel against her. “Why, for your health, of course! Only the finest nutrients.”

Indira didn't care that it was hot. She spilled it down her gullet as quickly as possible so she wouldn't have to taste it long. The flavor actually wasn't bad, but she had to drink it daily for so long that she would rather drink anything but tea for the rest of her long elf life.

“What do you and Teldryn do all day, anyway?”

Indira frowned. “We're in Raven Rock. We don't do anything.”

Her mother scoffed. “Fair enough. Just seems odd you've been getting up before noon lately.”

Indira, clearly offended, placed a hand on her hip. “Well I haven't been drinking myself to Oblivion, for starters. Anyway, I really gotta go. I'll be back before curfew as always.” She had no desire to talk to her mother anyway. Melvosa never had anything of value to say, no motherly insight, support, or anything of the sort. And Edris wasn't any better. It felt like she lived in the same house with two strangers who didn't know the first thing about her, nor did they seem to care. The only thing they cared about was her obedience, lest they lock her in her room like a prisoner. It happened plenty of times before, more than she could count.

Which is why she was so worried about them finding out about Teldryn. They could never find out he'd been teaching her the knowledge they forbade her from, lest they skin him alive in the town square for all to see.

She was never allowed to have any friends or get close to anyone. Thromwatch and Teldryn were the closest she'd gotten to having friends, however it was strictly business. She knew they were her paid babysitters and that was it. Throm didn't seem to care either way. He thought she was a complete nuisance. His only clear motive was to make money and do as he was told. Teldryn was different somehow. Or at the very least, his attitude toward Indira changed over time, as evident by his willingness to do what he was doing with her now, fully knowing the risks. Yet the man was just as enigmatic as the day they met. Aside from his favorite alcoholic beverage, she knew absolutely nothing about him. She didn't even know what he looked like.

It made her question his intentions. Did he actually care about her, or was he grooming her? What could he possibly have to gain by doing this when his life was on the line? She may have been sheltered, but she was not stupid.

***

A fire burned deep within her very core, blood boiling in her veins. Flames erupted from her palms and she launched streams of burning demise at a makeshift dummy Teldryn had built. The dried wood erupted with sparks and embers. He knew she had it in her. She was a natural.

“Very good!” he praised.

Indira was very pleased with herself, jumping up and down and clapping excitedly. It was a type of joy that every young woman should experience. He liked this Indira so much better than the spoiled, out of control brat he met.

She sat on a rock to rest. They'd put in a lot of work that day. Soon, the happiness faded, and she looked over at the masked merc beside her. “Teldryn...why are you doing this?”

“What do you mean?” his head cocked to the side.

“Teaching me combat and magic. Why?”

“Are you not having fun?” He answered her question with another question.

“Well of course it's fun!” she huffed in defense.

He took a seat beside her. “If it helps ease your mind at all, I don't think a young and clearly competent and capable woman should be drinking herself to her own demise. What's the point of being alive?”

“You have a job to do,” she said.

“Shouldn't providing guidance and companionship be part of my job as well?” Teldryn swallowed hard. He couldn't believe he had even said such an asinine thing out loud.

“You and Throm are my only friends...do you realize that?”

Teldryn thought about her present yet painfully absent parents. “Yes. I do.”

Indira wasn't sure she wanted to keep talking, but since she already began, she mustered the courage. “You're both strangers to me...I don't even know if I can trust either of you. If some better mercenaries asking for less gold come along and my parents give you the boot...who's to say you won't do the things you're supposed to protect me from? Whatever that might be.”

It hadn't even occurred to him. He chewed on his lip and remained silent.

“Teldryn...I don't even know what you _look_ like. How can I mindlessly trust anyone if I can't see their face?”

Indeed, it was a fair point.

Indira continued. “Regardless, I do consider you a friend, Teldryn. I want to see your face. Please. Please let me see my friend. You're all I have...”

His heart was breaking. Was she ready for this? Was _he_ ready? He had to get his thoughts in order. He closed his eyes and sifted through them all.

“Teldryn?”

He hadn't realized he was humming a tune.

“Teldryn, that...that's _my_ song.”

He finally opened his eyes. It had been stuck in his head since the night of Indira's performance. He faced her, his apprehensive hands resting on the sides of his helmet, his heart pounding.

_Just do it. Get it over with._

The chitin helmet slipped with care over his head. It was done. He felt a kind of liberation he hadn't felt in a long time.

Indira gasped, her entire body felt like it was melting into a puddle. She was speechless.

“Were you expecting a deformed troll?” He attempted to be his normal sarcastic self but it was wrong somehow.

Every confusing thought in her mind clarified and struck her all at once. The handsome stranger had been Teldryn the whole time.

He knew she recognized him from that night. He scratched his head and bowed it coyly. “You have a beautiful voice.”

However, Indira's reaction was not what he expected. “You...you absolute ass! I was so upset that you didn't come that night! I cried myself to sleep on Throm's shoulder! I questioned everything! Why didn't you say something?! Like...compliment me or whatever...just to let me know you had been there.”

Teldryn didn't really know what to make of this verbal bombardment. “I can't be seen in public.”

“Why?!” she demanded.

“It's...it's personal. I'm sorry...I shouldn't even have done this. Any of this.”

Indira's heart beat so violently she thought it might tear through her chest, but she realized she shouldn't have been yelling at him like she was. “Gods...Teldryn, I'm so sorry. There's no way you could have known how upset I was. And you're right. You don't owe me an explanation. You don't owe me a thing.”

It was the most mature thing he'd ever heard her say.

She rubbed her shoulder nervously. “I should be thanking you. I could have cracked my head on the volcanic rock or something. Turns out you were there for me the whole time.”

"I wanted you to know it was me. Honest I did. It just wasn't the right time. Not in front of everyone like that."

He didn't need to explain himself. She understood. She took a good look at him. He was just as ravishing as that night, even soaked in sweat and his hair a mess. That voice she knew so well suited his appearance perfectly. She threw her arms around him. It felt good to know that someone actually cared about her. Everyone else saw her as just a rich girl with a silver spoon in her mouth, but she was a being of complex emotions and unfulfilled desires, starved for positive attention from anyone at all. Teldryn understood all of that. Even before he revealed his face, she could have sworn she was falling in love with him.

And to her surprise, he hugged her back, a jumbled mess of uncontrollable emotions she never experienced before flooded her body. He held her face close to his chest, the plates on the chitin jabbed into her cheek, but she didn't care. “Please be patient with me,” he said quietly. “You're the first person in decades to see my face.”

Indira was equally perplexed and impressed by the amount of discipline he had to be able to hide his identity for so long. It felt like he'd passed on a heavy secret that was her responsibility to keep. This was her friend. A true friend, who trusted her with such a burden. She felt honored. But she also felt greedy and selfish. She pressured him to do this. No. Teldryn was a very cautious person. This was his decision and his alone. He was strong and would never succumb to the simple begging pleas of a bratty girl in Raven Rock. He _trusted_ her. It was overwhelming.

For the first time in years, Teldryn felt free.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's just a filler chapter! :B

Days continued to pass on Solstheim. Vendras and Romlyn proceeded to work hard for the Andrelo family and also some work for others in town. The extra money was necessary to feed the voracious appetite of Stumps. It wouldn't be long before Romlyn would no longer be able to carry him.

They had finally been given a day of rest and Vendras used the time to sift through the pages of the guar care book the Khajiit conservationists had given him. His eyes widened as he read further. “Romlyn, how big is Stumps going to get?”

Romlyn paused his cleaning for a moment. “Well, big enough to ride, of course.”

Vendras nearly choked as he sipped his tea. “What?!”

“I thought you knew. You hadn't read much about them before this, have you?”

“No!”

Romlyn became discouraged. “You're not mad, are you Ven?”

Vendras sighed as he massaged his temples. “No, no. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to raise my voice. I'm just surprised. It's my fault. I just wanted you to be happy and I made an impulsive decision without thinking.”

He still wasn't okay with Vendras's distress. “I'll take full responsibility, dear. I understand that it's hard work and I'll make sure I do what I can to make sure his needs are met.”

Vendras put his arm around him. He didn't mean to make it sound like he made a mistake. “Don't get the wrong idea from this, sweetheart. Stumps is as much my responsibility as he is yours. I just didn't know the full extent. It's not like we could have predicted we'd be stranded here. Besides, do you think Stumps was living his best life before we came along? He was in a tiny cage. I don't regret this for anything, it's just a strange time right now.”

“Ven, you always know just what to say.” Romlyn kissed his cheek.

They took a few moments to relax. Stumps continued his daily rampage through the house. It was kind of cute how contently the creature behaved in their presence. With Romlyn's diligent care, he was learning quickly.

“Do you think we'll be able to keep him at the stables when we get home?”

“I don't see why not,” Romlyn said. He hadn't budged an inch from Vendras's side as he spoke, gripping his arm lovingly. “The weather won't bother him none either. Hardy beasts, they are. Might be a bit sluggish in the cold, but he'll be fine. Just as trusty as a horse. And I promise you, once he's full grown, he'll calm down quite a bit.”

Vendras shifted his weight under Romlyn. “I suppose you were right.”

“What do you mean?”

“About the bad feeling you had.”

“Maybe,” he replied. “It could be worse, though. The only downside is that we're not in our own home. I know wealthy Dunmer can be most insufferable, but there is something really off about those Andrelos.”

“They are very strange,” Vendras agreed. “There is no sign of love in that home.”

Romlyn shook his head then rose to return to his chores in the kitchen. “I don't like how they treat that girl. It's just...not right.”

Vendras couldn't shake the feeling that their time on Solstheim was only going to get more interesting. He sipped his morning tea. “So have you warmed up to Teldryn yet?”

Romlyn scrubbed a dish aggressively and grumbled with a reluctant and honest answer. “He's all right...”

He tossed the dishcloth with disdain. “That _Throm_ though! I hate the way he glares and says nasty things to us. I thought Altmer were receptive to Mara's teachings.”

“Maybe it's cultural or perhaps something personal,” Vendras pondered aloud.

“Maybe he's just a prick,” he responded with venom and returned to his seat beside him after he dried his hands. Vendras slithered his arms around his husband's narrow waist.

“Now darling, we don't know his story. We try to combat that sort of behavior with unconditional kindness.” He reminisced about the time he choked out Rolff Stone-Fist and made him piss himself. “Keyword: try.”

The couple cozied up to one another. It was the first time in days they had time for each other. Even though it seemed like their lives together had been nothing but a series of unfortunate events, Vendras knew adversity was best met head on with his love by his side. What was life, anyway, but pain? The sweeter things made it all worth while.

Despite everything, and though he wouldn't mind being on familiar turf either, Vendras wasn't quite ready to go home yet. There was something going on on that island that increasingly piqued his interest. Romlyn certainly wasn't crazy when he stated something was off. Either way, he desired to continue his exploration now that they were stranded and wanted to capitalize on the time they were given.

“What do you think about leaving the bulwark today?”

“Vendras have you lost your mind?” Romlyn said, partly serious, partly joking.

“Didn't someone say there was an old Tel...telvinni? Tellvoni? A wizard living here on the island? I've only experienced a fragment of the things I wish to learn about our culture. I'm sure he could tell me anything I want to know.”

Romlyn laughed at his mispronunciation. “Telvanni. And Ven, if that's something you want to do, then it's fine by me. What about him?” He pointed to the insatiably hungry guarling who was snooping for food in barrels and baskets and making a mess as usual.

“I guess he'll have to come along.” Vendras shrugged. They readied themselves with a few necessities for wilderness dangers and asked the settlers for directions. The settlers informed them that Tel Mithryn stood in the southeast of the island, all they had to do was follow the Red Mountain on the horizon in the distance until they reached the shore. There was no way the mushroom towers could be missed. Vendras welled with anticipation as they trekked through the ashen wasteland. He desperately wanted a good look at the Red Mountain of Vvardenfell, the very reason he and members of his kind were scattered all over Tamriel. What really excited him, however, were the “mushroom towers” the townsfolk spoke of, and Romlyn informed him that the mages of House Telvanni were skilled in all types of arcane abilities, many of which Vendras never heard of and was limited from while living in Skyrim where the Nords frowned upon such powers, and that they grew their own dwellings with fungus and magic. Romlyn himself even found the idea fascinating. Though he knew all about them growing up, he'd never seen it in person. The world of the Dunmer changed so much during the eruptions of the Red Mountain. It impressed him that there were members of Telvanni left at all.

It was a bit of a struggle, but they made it quite some way without creatures or bandits pestering them. On the way, Vendras got to see docile wild netches for the first time by the waterside as they traveled south out of the bulwark. The hovering alien-like creatures with a hard shell and glowing tendrils delighted him. Their otherworldly heartbeat-like whirring was fascinating. They stopped to rest for a bit. It was a warmer spring day than it had been, so they hydrated and cooled themselves off. Vendras rested against a tree and dozed off slightly, when he was awakened by the most peculiar and haunting sound he'd ever heard in all his years.

He nearly lept from his skin into Romlyn's arms. “What was _that_?!”

“I'll be damned,” Romlyn laughed at his reaction, but Vendras didn't understand how he could remain so calm after that ghostly moan echoed through the valley.

“Romlyn?! What is so funny?”

“Relax. There's nothing to be worried about,” he helped Vendras back to his feet. “Let's keep going, I want you to see it for yourself. Follow the sound.” Sure enough, another eerie howl resounded over the hills, followed by a purr that rumbled like thunder. Vendras was abnormally nervous, but he knew his husband would never lead him into any unsafe situation as he pulled him along by the hand. That sound chilled him to his very bones as the volume increased as they made progress. Stumps expressed no worry at all in his little toadlike face as he hung out of the satchel on Romlyn's side. If he wasn't frightened, and Romlyn was so eager, then there was no way Vendras should have been anxious, though he was still quite leery of what they were about to discover.

In no time, they happened upon a small gully that had been carved out deeply by heavy waterflow, in the bottom ran a small river. There was a peculiar structure standing within the riverbed below, almost as if it was hovering, very similarly to the netches they had come across earlier. Vendras realized that this thing was not a structure at all, but a creature, as it bellowed out that unusual ululation he had learned to become so familiar with within the last twenty minutes or so. He had paused to stare at it, and Romlyn tugged on him to come along so that they may get closer. They found a fellow Dunmer man camping beside this thing, eating something he had been cooking over the fire. He had reached for his weapon, but as Romlyn and Vendras drew near, he realized they were not a threat. He pulled his hood down and greeted them.

“What is that?” Vendras spouted incredulously at this massive beast before him, completely ignoring the Dunmer by the campfire.

“This is a silt strider, Ven,” Romlyn informed. “These used to transport Dunmer all over Morrowind.”

“They _rode_ in that? It...it's a giant flea!” he exclaimed. Now that he could see it with his own eyes, he was flabbergasted.

The Dunmer by the fire cleared his throat. “Don't be rude to Dusty!”

“I beg your pardon. My husband has never seen a silt strider before.”

The elf smiled. “Not many have these days. My name is Revus. I've raised Dusty here since she was an egg. She's at the end of her days now though. Not so good for travel anymore. We're just waiting it out.”

The tale tugged at their heartstrings. Vendras started across the rope bridge. Forgetting his manners, he paused. “May I?” He asked timidly.

“Of course,” said Revus, forgiving his prior statement about his beloved pet as he saw the excitement and bewilderment in him.

Romlyn followed behind. Vendras stopped again before he reached the end to step onto the beast's back. “Go on,” he encouraged.

It wasn't anything like a horse, in fact it was more like a carriage that could hold many. The creature's back was concave like it was carved out naturally just for this purpose. Dusty's long spindly insect-like legs once strode over the landscape with ease in her prime. There was a blanket inside, so they knew Revus spent time close to her during her final days. Vendras stroked the creature's hard carapace. She responded to his gentle touch with a purr that was much quieter than expected after the sounds she had been making before. Vendras then sat upon the blanket and crossed his legs. He envisioned what it must have been like for his grandparents. Romlyn sat beside him, warmed by his husband's childlike wonder at this magnificent creature of old. Stumps wriggled out of the satchel and sat between his fathers, as if he knew to respect this elderly being.

Romlyn took his hand and spoke not. He knew he didn't have to. There was once a time that this could have been them, but the changing world had robbed them of such an experience.

Revus had joined them on the silt strider's back, stroking the “floor.” “Isn't she lovely?”

“Yes,” Vendras answered gently and wondrously. “She's extraordinary.”

“And who is this little fella?” Revus took notice of the guarling. Stumps, knowing he was talking about him, wagged his tail shyly. “Goodness gracious, it's a guar. I haven't seen a guar in ages.”

Dusty shifted her massive body as Revus showed attention to the thing. “Oh now don't get jealous!” scolded Revus. “He's just a baby. You know better.”

It was almost strange the way the elf personified this creature. No one would have thought anything like that would respond to civilized conversation in such a way. As alien as she was, Dusty was a sentient being like anything else. It was evident that Revus was fond of animals and had a connection with them. He must have been a livestock farmer in his prime before catastrophe forced him from his homeland.

“I didn't catch your names. I haven't seen you two on the island before,” he said without looking at the couple as he continued to play with Stumps.

“I'm Romlyn. This is Vendras. We were just on our way to Tel Mithryn when we heard Dusty. I had to see for myself and I really wanted Vendras to see. He grew up in Skyrim and he's never seen anything from Morrowind before.”

“Well that was nice. I don't get many visitors out here. I'd stay in town, but I don't want to leave Dusty by herself. Not now.”

She shifted again. Vendras continued to marvel over her, which warmed Revus.

"We were just on our way to Tel Mithryn. Are we close?"  
  
"Right over the hill." Revus didn't stop playing with Stumps. "You'll be able to see it from here. Can't miss the mushrooms. Stop by for a visit any time you like. Don't be afraid to bring this little bugger with you." He cooed at the guar.  
  
Vendras and Romlyn thanked him for the experience and hospitality and followed the path. In no time they were standing before a monumental mushroom tower, surrounded by a smaller village of fungal off-chutes. Vendras stood in awe. He'd never seen anything nearly as spectacular before and it emanated powerful energy.  
  
"Should...should we knock on the door?" he asked coyly, intimidated by the ornate circular entrance to the main tower.  
  
"I'm not sure," Romlyn responded with uncertainty.  
  
Luckily for them, they bumped into a young mage outside, much younger than Vendras. He looked like he was doing something he wasn't supposed to and was startled when approached.  
  
"What are you doing?" inquired Vendras.  
  
The young dark elf with messy black hair stumbled over his words. "Umm...nothing!"  
  
The corners of Vendras's lips upturned beyond his control. He knew an enthusiastic apprentice conjurer when he saw one. Too big for his britches.  
  
He crossed his arms, trying vainly to suppress his smile. "It doesn't look like 'nothing.'"  
  
The young mage scratched the back of his head nervously. "I presume you're here to see Master Neloth. Can you do me a huge favor? Don't tell him what I'm doing out here! Gods, he'll skin me alive...or worse! I'm Talvas by the way."  
  
The pair introduced themselves and asked about the mer in the tower, to which Talvas responded with how he's ancient, hates visitors, and never sleeps, and yet still told them just to head on inside as he lead the way up the narrow path at the base of the enormous fungus. Inside, a glowing sigil pulsated on the floor. One by one, it levitated each of the elves high up the stalk to the upper floor. Inside, they could hear the nasally wail of an elder Dunmer. "Varona?! I'm still thirsty! Where's my damned tea?"  
  
Talvas cleared his throat and startled the wizard who hadn't noticed he had entered the tower. "Um...sir Varona has been dead for at least five years..."  
  
"What? Oh yes, that's right. DROVAS!" Neloth was so burdened by his intellectual machinations he didn't seem to care about the world around him. Another Dunmer servant came rushing in not long after nearly spilling a tray of tea as he stumbled on the landing from the magical sigil. "I'm here, Master Neloth!" His breath was spent from running from one of the smaller adjoining towers.  
  
"I asked you hours ago," Neloth complained. "How in the name of Oblivion does it take that long to brew tea?"  
  
The servant named Drovas clenched his fists and took a deep breath, but he collected himself before speaking. "Sir, it's only been 20 minutes since your request."  
  
The concept of time was lost on the old Dunmer, but his incorrigible nature would never allow him to admit to it. He scoffed and waved his hand. "Set it on the table and get out of here. I'm very busy." All the while this had taken place, he hadn't taken any notice of his visitors as he scribbled on parchment and uttered what would seem like nonsense to average people to himself. Talvas didn't dare interrupt, but Neloth felt him staring, and addressed the young man without looking. "Talvas, do you _mind_? And why aren't you doing the essay I told you to write?"  
  
Talvas passed a silent message to Vendras and Romlyn with his red Dunmer eyes, and they waited awkwardly.  
  
In a few more moments, Neloth perked up and ceased his scribbling. "Gods, what is that _smell_? It smells like...like guar flatulence?" Upon turning around, he finally realized he had company, and the antsy Stumps shuffled in Romlyn's bag and began to make noises.  
  
"By Azura, do you just let anyone in here, Talvas?"  
  
Talvas bowed his head. "Aplogies sir, but these gentlemen walked all this way to see you."  
  
"See me? Do I look like a tourist attraction?" His tone was perpetually snippy and rude, and even though he was irritated he was increasingly distracted by the guar scent and ceased his bickering to check out Stumps. "My, I haven't seen a guar in years. It really takes me back to the good old days of the Third Era..."  
  
(Third Era? Just how old was he? Vendras wondered, growing steadily more excited by the wealth of knowledge he could learn from the wizard).  
  
"...when servants and apprentices did as they were asked!"  
  
"But I've already finished my essay, sir," Talvas was careful to speak in a manner that wouldn't grate against his master, and he pointed at the parchment that was well within Neloth's line of vision and reach.  
  
Neloth fussed and said there was no way he could have completed it that quickly and unrolled it to scan the document. There was a glint that he was genuinely impressed by what he read, but he caught himself showing positive emotion. He said no more about it and slid the paper to the side and released a peeved puff of air.

“Well, don't just stand there. Speak!” Neloth turned his attention to the couple, black eyebrows arched just perfectly to enhance that natural Dunmer scowl. Like most elves, he didn't appear his age and it was difficult to guess, but his years of wisdom and experience showed.

It wasn't like Vendras to be starstruck like he was, but he found himself speechless, lips parted slightly, but no words crossed them. Romlyn spoke for him this time, providing their names, business, and an abridged backstory, since he could tell the man was impatient.

Vendras had his eyes on the collection of black books on the shelf adjacent to Neloth's desk. He had a strong desire to read them, even though the material of the spines was ominous and otherworldly. He reached out to touch them without even thinking or considering another's belongings, but Neloth took his wrist. “Trust me, you don't want to open those. At least not right now. They are the Black Books of Hermaeus Mora.”

“Hermaeus Mora?” Vendras's incredulity and enthusiasm got the better of him. “How did you get these?”

Neloth went on to explain that the Dragonborn collected them a few years back. After getting what he wanted out of them, he donated the set to Neloth, who had already been working on collecting them. He started to like Vendras and his ability to ask the right questions. Not being a dullard like everyone else was a good start. Neloth was happy to respond to his inquiries about Morrowind and sorcery. They ended up speaking for hours and discussed magic and science that was well beyond the abilities of Romlyn and even the apprentice Talvas. What a blessing it was for him to engage with a person of high intellect. Romlyn didn't mind. If that's the kind of thing that made Vendras happy, then he was glad they made the walk to Tel Mithryn. For the first time since they arrived on the island, he felt at home. They talked about Stumps and the past, present, and everything in between. However, they needed to return to Raven Rock before the daylight ended. He hated to do it, but had to cut Vendras off after he checked the position of the sun out the window of the tower.

“Sweetheart, we have to get going before nightfall.”

Vendras's disappointment was that of a child asked to come home from a play date, but he agreed. “Yes of course.” He thanked Neloth and Talvas escorted them back out of the tower, exiting the same way they came. The way up wasn't bad, but the way down didn't agree with Romlyn's stomach. He felt queasy but kept it together, as he didn't want a repeat of his episode on the Northen Maiden.

After they bid Talvas farewell, Vendras was already making plans to return someday. The boyish enthusiasm was so precious, Romlyn halted him in his tracks just to kiss him, if anything it got him to shut up for a few moments. Though Vendras had no objections. His mind had been so busy that he nearly forgot how it felt to lose himself in the loving embrace of his betrothed. “I'm so thankful we came here.”

Romlyn was too. They had their fair share of adversity, but times like these were deeply cherished. There was just the perfect amount of time to return to Raven Rock if they picked up the pace, so they trudged through the ashy terrain to return to the western shore. Vendras looked back at the volcano on the adjacent island, the looming mountain that forced the Dunmer from their once proud and prosperous home. He hoped that one day it may be rebuilt to its former glory and that he may visit there.

Though the day had remained beautiful, they could see a storm rolling in in the distance. It wasn't long before they reached the halfway point to Raven Rock, but something was off. Stumps wriggled in his pouch. Romlyn did his best to calm him, but to no avail. He sensed a presence as well, and Vendras readied himself for battle, ears perked and listening intently to his surroundings. The air was silent, muffled by the layer of ash. The only sound that could be heard was the faint cry of Dusty.

“There's something here, Ven,” Romlyn said quietly as he slid his dagger from his belt. “I can feel it.”

“I feel it too,” he said, his eyes darting around on the search for any bit of movement. He summoned his blade to his hand. “Stay close.”

The ash before them began to move like sand in an hourglass as a hole opened up. A loathesome creature lumped its vile, embered body onto the ground before them as it crawled from the earth. It was humanoid, but Vendras had never seen anything like it before, like a molten man. It charged them, and Vendras struck it many times, but it didn't seem to phase the monster, it's burning face disturbed him, a staggeringly similar image from his past. For the first time ever, he froze in fear. Romlyn shoved him to the ground as the creature made to strike him, and slashed wildly with his own weapon, The terrified Stumps buried himself as deep as he could within the satchel.

Vendras hated himself in that moment. He couldn't react. He couldn't think. He couldn't make his body move. What was wrong with him? All he could do was watch as his beloved husband fought valiantly against this strange adversary.

“I'll see you burn!” the elf snarled as he forced his blade into the belly of the ashen creature, but it did nothing. Fire would do nothing against this thing, and he did the only thing he could think of in the moment and summoned his familiar. The mudcrab emerged from the Oblivion realms once again. If anything, it would buy Romlyn time. He ran to Vendras and tried to help him to his feet. “Come on, Ven! You need to get up! You need to fight!”

The little ghostly mudcrab did his best to distract their foe, but didn't last long before he was pummeled back into the Oblivion realms. The burning ashy creature closed in on them, and Vendras still couldn't find it in himself to move. Romlyn bravely shielded Vendras. “Nerevar guide me,” he uttered.


	10. Chapter 10

The sun began to set over Solstheim, a warm orange hue draped itself over the ashen volcanic landscape. Throm slipped out of his ebony armor into comfortable, casual robes and pulled the hood up over his head. It wasn't intended to hide his identity as it would have been useless. Besides Vendras, he was the tallest person on the entire island and the only high elf.  
  
He fastened his bow and quiver upon his back and shuffled mindlessly through the silt until he met up with the apothecary who was preparing to close up shop for the night. By this time, most of the settlers had gone home or to the Netch for their evening meals and drinks. She knew his intentions right away.  
  
"You know I'm gonna have to charge you double," she said in a hushed voice. "With the ships down, we're not getting supplies. I can't make any more."  
  
"It's fine, Milore," he said understandingly. "I'll pay whatever you want, just give me what you are willing to spare. Please...I need it."  
  
"It's rough," she responded with sympathy, then took his monetary offering and traded him a small concealed box. Glass bottles could be heard clinking and rattling within.  
  
"May the divines bless you, Milore," Throm thanked her with genuine gratitude. As her turned away, she called to him. "Whatever it is you're going through to need this stuff...I hope it gets better for you, Throm."  
  
He acknowledged her with a meager nod. With that, he disappeared far from the bulwark to indulge his appetite.  
  
It was such a strange thing. He drank the skooma to forget, yet he couldn't recall the thing he wanted to forget. Yet he somehow still wanted to remember even though he was well aware his convoluted and repressed memories pained him so. Now he depended on the substance to forget...or to remember. It didn't matter now, as long as he didn't feel anything at all.  
  
Throm gulped a few mouthfuls from one of the bottles, sweet and warm on his tongue. Soon he could feel the prickling of every last nerve throughout his body awakening, ascending from the tips of his toes and stimulating the follicles on the back of his neck and on his scalp. A remarkable yet unpleasant sensation. He knew he was killing himself slowly, and he welcomed death with open arms. He hated that he couldn't get away from himself. This was the only way.  
  
Off into the wilds he wandered as the sun subsided deeper into the horizon, feet sinking into the delicate ash, skooma surging like an electrical pulse through his veins. The springtime air was fetid with an acidic and sulfurous odor instead of fresh and green as a forest should. The pines were dead and grayed out with the sprinkling of ash the Red Mountain continued to rain onto Vvardenfell and Solstheim.  
  
Throm's destination was Tel Mithryn. He liked to sit atop one of the giant mushrooms and admire the seafront and the mountain while his intoxicated brain achieved some sort of repose. However his sharp golden ears honed in on a commotion that wasn't far, assuming reavers and bandits were having a squabble, but he could hear the strife in those cries just over the hill. He curiously followed the sound, tingling from the effects of the skooma he'd been sipping, straining his long legs to climb over the steep incline. From the peak of the knoll, he could see all the action, and a familiar fair-haired Dunmer voraciously swinging a dagger at an Ash Spawn as he shielded the creature in his satchel as well as Vendras, who was nearby. Even for Throm who did not know the couple well, it seemed out of character for him to not fight along side his husband. They needed help.  
  
“Time to play hero.” Throm readied his bow and nocked an arrow, his drug-induced heart thumped like war drums within his temples and pulsated in his skull, and even so, his hands were steady, his vision clear. When the moment was opportune, he launched an arrow into the back of the head of the Ash Spawn directly through the other side and it stuck into a charred dead pine trunk.  
  
The creature disintegrated into a pile of rubble before Romlyn's very eyes. Exhausted and shaken, his chest heaved as he nervously searched for the slayer of the monster.  
  
Throm skied on his boots down the side of the hill and landed flat on the bottom with the grace of a deer. Romlyn held back his dagger ready to stab until the being that emerged before him lowered his hood.  
  
"This one's on the house, Sourpuss. Next time I'll charge you."  
  
Romlyn released the biggest sigh of relief, then realized he'd used the name Teldryn had christened him with which annoyed him because he had no right to call him that. "For Nerevar's sake...what are you doing out here?"  
  
"I could ask you the same," Throm crossed his arms.  
  
Stumps flailed wildly within Romlyn's bag and leapt out at the Altmer, but it was not with malice. The creature circled his legs and pressed his body against him like a house cat, and making bizarrely loving reptilian purrs, which also annoyed Romlyn. He secretly decided that if Stumps liked him, maybe he wasn't so bad after all, but he wouldn't admit it out loud.  
  
Off to the side stood Vendras, still paralyzed by whatever it was he was feeling, simultaneously ashamed and embarrassed of himself that he hadn't made any effort to protect his own husband. It was obvious that Throm knew something was wrong with him too, but they shared a mutual glance with one another not to bring it up.  
  
"Are you all right, Red?" he asked, real concern in his tone rather than his usual scathing vitriol. And the fact he said "Red" also bothered Romlyn.  
  
"I...I don't know." Vendras hated the intensity of Throm's brilliant spessartine gaze. Many Altmer had orange eyes, but none jewel-like as his were. Perhaps it felt so disconcerting because his pupils were so miniscule at the moment. He had a guess as to why, but Vendras decided it was not his place to judge anyone's vices. His business was his own.  
  
Romlyn took him by the hand, somewhat possessively. He didn't trust Throm's intentions. Throm wasn't blind to it. Rolling his eyes he said. "I was going for a walk. I do that from time to time, you know, just like anyone. I just happened to end up in the right place at the right time. That's all. You have my word."  
  
The disheveled elf turned to Vendras to seek some kind of validation. "I trust him, Romlyn. We're lucky he found us." His throat clenched. He hated how useless he had been. What if Romlyn had gotten killed? It would have been his fault and he'd have never been able to forgive himself.  
  
"Come on. I'll escort you back to Raven Rock. The sun's already set and these woods have more horrors than those Ash Spawn."  
  
Throm didn't speak to them anymore as they traveled back. His long strides kept him a few paces ahead. Vendras lagged behind so that he could keep Romlyn close to his side. He was afraid. He didn't want to lose him. He thought he had overcome his demons, but witnessing that creature, the thing Throm referred to as Ash Spawn, something clicked within. He felt the same terror as the day he burned his Imperial caretakers alive. Maybe it was a guilt to be taken to his grave. And here he thought he had atoned for his sins.  
  
Romlyn knew it was troubling him, but he wasn't angry about it and didn't bring it up. He acknowledged him by gripping his hand tightly. His dark past was bound to resurface from time to time, and no matter what, he would always love Vendras.  
  
He distracted him by talking about Thromwatch. "Did you see his eyes?" he said softly. He was out of earshot of his whispers at the moment. "Like pinholes. He's completely off his face. Should we tell the Andrelos?"  
  
Vendras was surprised by him. "You of all people?" he uttered his disappointment. "The man saved our lives and you want to turn him in?"  
  
"Well, no..." defended Romlyn, distraught that Vendras lashed out so harshly at him. "I meant maybe he needs help, Ven."  
  
"Oh! Darling, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you like that."  
  
Romlyn sighed though his nose. "I forgive you, but you've been making a habit of it as of late. Is there something else you want to discuss?" He hated that he felt the need to even ask such a ridiculous question, but the fear was always there.  
  
It was then that Vendras decided he was over this vacation. "No. At least...I don't think so. Please... you're reading too far into this. I'm just groggy and my feet hurt and quite frankly, I miss our big bed in Windhelm. I miss our friends and our boring desk jobs at the docks."  
  
The fairer elf gave a halfcocked smile. "It's normal to feel homesick, my love. This holiday was nice, but we've overstayed our welcome."  
  
The volumes of their voices had increased gradually as their conversation became more casual, and Throm listened in, not that he had anything else to listen to. He actually felt bad for them. He knew what it was like to miss home. He had no home. He'd been searching for a place to call his own for a long time. The way Romlyn spoke to Vendras reminded him of someone he used to know, though he couldn't recall, and it nagged at him. That was his cue that he needed another fix. He strode far enough ahead so they couldn't see him sneak another sip of skooma, then waited for them to catch up. He may not have been fond of them and their ways, but he wouldn't be able to live with himself if anything bad happened to them.  
  
In no time, they were back in Raven Rock, and it was just in time before the incoming storm hit. The streets were now completely bare save for a few night watchmen. Throm walked them all the way to the front door of Severin Manor. Vendras wasted no time going inside, thanking Throm briefly. The night's events made him feel filthy inside and out and he couldn't tolerate anyone seeing his weakness.

Romlyn and Throm were left with one another outside, Stumps clawed at Throm's knees, wanting to be picked up. He humored the creature, and he wrapped his scaly body around Throm's neck like a stole, cold blooded skin robbing him of body heat. “Ugh, you smell terrible,” he complained.

“ _You_ smell terrible!” interjected Romlyn as he collected his pet from the broad shoulders of the tall high elf. For the first time ever, he heard Throm chuckle.

Confused by his own laughter, he pulled himself back into snide and attitudinal, but after seeing he actually did possess a soul, Romlyn no longer believed that ruse. Vendras was right about him. This man was concealing an unfathomable tragedy in his heart. Throm's pupils were still nearly non-existant, and Romlyn, though he didn't know for certain, offered a lowkey hint to get cleaned up. “There are better ways to take away the pain.”

In some way, Throm reminded him of Vendras. Unlike Vendras, he expressed his pain differently. No one could be that relentlessly mean and hateful unless the world took everything from them. He should have listened to his husband in the first place and shown compassion.

Throm didn't know what to do with Romlyn's observation of him. He said nothing.

“Thanks for saving us, today. Take care of yourself.” The little Dunmer tucked himself inside.

A disconcerting warmth washed over Throm. He shook it off and made his return to The Retching Netch for the night, passing his two favorite prostitutes together on the way. He gestured for both of them to follow and took them to his room.


	11. Chapter 11

Teldryn had no idea what time it was in his windowless room as his body roused him naturally. He marvelled that for once, he had a fulfilling restful slumber. The same could not be said about his cohort Thromwatch, who he joined at the table in the main dining area for breakfast. It was unusual for him to be awake before Teldryn, but it seemed he had never gone to sleep at all the previous night, with deep set bags beneath his tired, bloodshot eyes and a solemn expression that was not typical of the normally sneering high elf. He also wasn't normally seen eating publicly, though when he was, it was something easy on the jaws. Today he was scooping some kind of substance that looked like farina into his maw.

Teldryn knew he didn't have many of his teeth left, and that he was extremely self-conscious about it, although he never could get the elf to tell him anything about it. He couldn't even get him to tell a cock-and-bull story about wrestling a werebear or a bandit smashing his face with a warhammer. Anything would have been better than his silence. Throm, even though he came off as lazy or careless on occasion, was actually meticulous about tidiness and hygiene, so his issue was certainly not self inflicted. His hair was never oily or stringy, his working attire of ebony armor always polished to a brilliant gloss, and the bow he carried, which was his most valued possession, was constantly oiled, re-strung, conditioned, varnished, and the whole nine yards to ensure it remained in mint condition. The only thing the elf didn't care about were his boots, which was futile in such an unforgivingly dusty environment.

He had met Throm nearly fifteen years prior, and didn't know much more about him in the present than he did when he first stepped off the boat. Some late nights, he'd occasionally hear Throm in the next room breaking down and weeping after his ladies of the night collected their payment and departed. There was an ongoing series plaguing his friend every night, but it wasn't his place to pry into a man's life. He figured it was more respectful to allow him to talk about his issues when he was ready to do it, but it didn't stop Teldryn from being generally concerned about him, especially with complete awareness of his skooma problem. After fifteen years of companionship, it seemed like a much deeper issue than meets the eye.

Throm returned the favor by never asking Teldryn to reveal his physical identity, even after all those years together. To him, he was an absurd anthropomorphic crab-mer who talked way too much. They had a mutual understanding, a sort of “don't ask, don't tell,” kind of friendship that allowed them an uncomplicated neutrality, yet it left plenty of room for them to constantly roast each other. Their relationship was built on sarcasm, witty banter, and downright nastiness on occasion and it was good enough. They still managed to recognize respect each other's skills. Either way, one was always there when the other needed assistance, and there was an unspoken rule that they would always have each other's back. Naturally, it didn't stop either of them from wondering about each other, because they did actually care, even if it was difficult to show it.

But this time Throm looked especially weathered and beaten down, to the point Teldryn couldn't leave it be, concerned that this particular problem hadn't improved even after all that time.

“Why the long face?” He pulled his cowl down just revealing his mouth so he could eat his own meal.

“Just tired,” Throm replied softly.

Teldryn clicked his tongue. “Clearly. You seem off since you rescued Red and Sourpuss.”

He shrugged and shoveled another heaping bite of porridge into his mouth.

“I'd say you're even beginning to care about them.”

Throm scoffed. “Foolishness.”

“Come now. I know you're not a heartless monster beneath that cold exterior.”

“Hmph.”

“Suit yourself, Throm.” He knew he wasn't going to get anymore out of him. “Do try to get some rest, though. You look like shit.” It was his way of telling him to take better care of himself.

They finished their meals in silence, and soon Red and Sourpuss entered the establishment. Stumps managed to remove himself from Romlyn's bag and was running around harassing patrons. Romlyn attempted to scold and contain the guar, though no one seemed to mind as they tossed him table scraps. It pleased most of them to see a creature of their native Morrowind again. The bar owner Geldis found him especially cute and entertaining.

“Come _on_ , Stumps! You need to relax!” Romlyn pleaded with the animal, but he ran away and he had to chase him.

That's when Teldryn heard Throm laugh through his nose at all the chaos that critter was causing. He actively tried to hide his smile, but he wasn't fooling anyone. He never laughed at anything. He caught Teldryn staring and tried to pretend it didn't happen.

Stumps recognized Throm's presence. His tail wagged madly at the sight of him and he barreled towards him, mouth open as wide as it could go and screeching loudly. He clawed at Throm's shin with his nubby arms and continued to shriek, so he tossed an uneaten fleck from Teldryn's plate into his mouth, which satisfied the animal, but he craved his attention. “You're a good little buddy, aren't you?” Throm cooed as he scratched behind his scaly ear pits.

This act of tenderness was unbelievable, but warmed Teldryn's heart.

“For crying out loud, Stumps! Let the man eat his breakfast in peace!” Romlyn arrived, out of breath.

“Enjoying fatherhood, Sourpuss?” Teldryn laughed.

“Bah!” He picked up Stumps and stuffed him back into the satchel. He was already getting too big for it. “You need to behave yourself.”

Throm's eyes met with Romlyn's briefly, but he quickly turned away, the tips of his golden ears turned peach. Romlyn apologized for his unruly pet and returned to Vendras.

Throm finished the last few bites in his bowl. He could feel Teldryn's eyes on him through his dusty goggles. “You trying to fuck? Quit gawking at me, you degenerate!” His face filled with more color.

Teldryn rose to his feet and pushed in his chair. He learned more about Throm in that five minute interaction than he had in all the time he'd known him. He'd have preferred to tease him about it, but decided it was best not to draw attention to it this time around, so he bid him a good day, smiling all the while, and embarked for the Andrelo household to retrieve his young ward.

He found Indira's company to be much more tolerable since she eased up on her drinking habit. She had developed into a very ambitious woman with the fire of Morrowind in her heart. It didn't stop him from wondering why her family needed her guarded so intently. She had so much potential, and yet they imprisoned her inside the four walls of their household. Not that Solstheim had much to do besides work at the docks or the mines, but it was odd a young woman was banned from so many activities. It was no wonder she turned to bad habits to entertain herself. Not only that, Solstheim was a strange of place for any wealthy family to settle down. They must have been running from something. It wasn't his job to know. He did as he was told and the coin kept flowing.

As Teldryn entered their dwelling, he met Indira sitting in a chair by the door waiting for him. Though this time she was not dressed in her usual training attire. Instead, she donned a sundress, rather short, but she still had her boots on for romping in the acidic ashy terrain. When they were far enough away from the settlement, she made a suggestion. “I don't want to train today.”

“All right,” Teldryn was very agreeable. “So what are we doing, then?”

“Let's just walk along the seaside today. Maybe we'll see some netch calves at play.”

Teldryn shrugged and obliged. Admittedly, he really didn't feel like putting in work and welcomed a relaxing day. As the wind blew from the ocean, he noticed Indira's distractingly short dress. It felt inappropriate to look, but he couldn't help himself. It was clear to him what was going on here.

The young woman also seemed especially more excitable than usual. She skipped up and down the beach, collecting shells and trying to open oysters to check for pearls (to no avail, as the little bivalves held strong). They eventually frolicked to their normal hangout spot.

As the summer heat began to chase the balminess of the spring's end away, Teldryn couldn't bear to wear his chitin armor any longer. He undressed down to his shirt and pants, and he left his shoes off to help regulate his body temperature. He even thought about taking a nice seat on a big rock and soaking them in the ocean, but he felt it best to remain in the shack for the time being.

Indira continued chattering away about nothing in particular, and Teldryn didn't pay much attention, only offering “yes,” “ya don't say?” and “mhmm” as responses. Mostly he tried not to look at her to avoid giving her the wrong impression, and listening to her talk actually exhausted him.

However, she noticed and his behavior annoyed her. “Teldryn, what's wrong with you today?”

“I could ask the same of you,” he said, gesturing his head at her entire body.

“W-why?” her slate colored cheeks flushed maroon. “What's wrong with my clothes?”

“I've known you a few years, my dear. I can tell when you're trying to flirt.”

That response offended her. “You think this is flirting? You're really full of yourself, aren't you? You just think you're so attractive that every woman would throw herself at you! That's probably why you wear that stupid helmet!”

Teldryn, shocked by her sudden change in attitude frowned and crossed his arms. “What are you so angry about, Indira? You're behaving very strangely today and I'm liable to leave you out here to fend for yourself. Don't come crying to me if Reavers take you to have their way with you dressed like that with your business hanging out the back of your dress. And yes, I noticed you're not wearing undergarments. A blind man could see that.”

Indira realized she was way out of line and her hands flew to her face. “Oh my gods...Teldryn, I'm sorry. What's wrong with me?” She sat down beside him, careful to make sure her dress stayed under her enough so that she wouldn't get ash in her bits.

“You don't need to do these kinds of things to get a man's attention,” he explained to her. “You've been rowdy as of late. Now what's really bothering you that's making you direct your frustration at me?”

She thought for a few moments, working up the courage to say what she was about to say. “I like you.”

“Pfft. I know that,” he laughed.

“I know I shouldn't, but I do. And it's not just because I think you're attractive. These past few months actually getting to know each other...I just feel really good when you're around.”

Teldryn sighed and shifted his weight into a more comfortable position on the hard floorboards of the shack. It wasn't doing any service for his tailbone. “Indira, you're lonely, and you've been getting positive attention from me. It's just a little crush, nothing more than that. Just because I've been kind to you doesn't mean you have to jump my bones. Most people should be nice, and unfortunately for you that hasnt been the case.”

It was strange to have to deliver a talk like that to anyone, and he couldn't say that he ever had to do anything like it before.

“You mean...you don't feel anything for me? Anything at all?”

His throat tightened. It turned out he _had_ been feeling something for her. Ever since that night at the carnival as a matter of fact. But he couldn't find it in himself to disappoint that girl anymore than he already did.

“It...it's not something that is meant to last.” It was all he said.

They remained silent for a time after that, both of them uncomfortable. The longer he sat, the more the thoughts churned in his mind. His ruby eyes traveled from her cocoa brown hair over her smooth round face, her pinkish red eyes lost and forlorn as she hugged her knees.

“Oh, to ash with it!”

Indira didn't know how to react, it happened so abruptly. And something felt off about the entire thing. She didn't have a tongue gagging her half way down her throat and feel like her face was being devoured from her skull. This...this was nice. Gentle, caring, and sweet. His lips were far softer than she'd ever felt or would expect from a grungy mercenary. And his breath didn't taste like rancid toothrot and stale beer. Instead of shame, she experienced a sense of elation as his fingers crept to the base of her neck and wove into her hair. The hair on her neck bristled, pleasant chills gracing her flesh. The positioning of his hands were cautious and polite, not groping or causing bruises on her breasts or inner thighs. Was this how it was supposed to be?

Teldryn pulled away, his lower lip stuck to hers for a second. He cleared his throat.

Indira's cheeks flushed a vibrant pink, her pulse pounded in her ears.

“I shouldn't have done that,” he said softly. Indira did not speak and curled into his arms, but he did not deny her, and he wrapped his around her. She needed this. They both did. It was in that moment he found her irrisistable. To her surprise, he turned her chin up and kissed her again, and this time he really meant it, slow and steady, though he wasn't sure where he should place his hands as he wanted to be respectable, but she guided him along and rested them on her narrow waist. It came naturally to him to pull her against him. She was so small, frail and bony, and he wanted to protect her. The world was cruel to her.

Indira crawled up onto his lap and, their lips never parted. To her delight she could feel his erection brush past the sensitive area between her legs. Teldryn lowered the straps of her dress delicately, exposing her small and perky breasts. He smiled. She was beautiful. Her skin was soft and new, untainted like the average weathered Dunmer. Their eyes met briefly. It all seemed like some fever induced dream.

The young woman placed one of Teldryn's rough, strong hands on her bare breast and the other between her legs. He knew exactly what to do, though she expected the usual aggressiveness she was accustomed to, but he didn't hurt her at all, in fact he was so gentle she barely noticed he was touching her—at least until he touched exactly the right areas. Her clitoris was so sensitive it didn't take much stimulation to arouse her at all. He continued to touch her until he decided she was ready for the next step. He slid over her labia, which were already drenched in her natural fluids and inserted his middle finger into her crevice, moving it in an out gently against the upper wall. She'd never felt anything like it, as she was accustomed to calloused hands and jagged, dirty fingernails being forced into her.

“Teldryn...” she sighed and he stopped, concerned he may have gone too far.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

“Yes...please...”

He kissed her neck and continued, with one hand lightly squeezing her breast and the other proceeding with his prior activities. She squirmed onto his finger, his thumb circling her clit, his entire hand dripping with her nectar. He was so selfless and deliberate with every action, and Indira became overwhelmed with a sensory overload with all her errogenous areas being treated at once. She never knew something she normally associated with filth and shame could be so loving and romantic.

Teldryn's pants became far tighter than he was comfortable with, the friction against the fabric started to rub him raw, so he unfastened the ties and his penis sprung forth. He stroked it carefully with his now free hand and kept the other at a even pace on Indira, her wet lust enticed him to connect with her, but he refrained until she gave an affirmative body signal. He was content enough at the moment watching her expressions as she enjoyed herself. He got to a point where he pulled her close, tongue lightly skimming her nipple with made her convulse with pleasure. He sucked on one while he gently pinched the other, which made her twist and arch her hips, the heat from within her radiated against his shaft. She found this sensation to be a delight and she grinded her hips into him, soaking the underside of his phallus with a trail of sleek vaginal secretions.

He couldn't take much more and rolled her onto her back. It startled her at first, as she was used to men forcing themselves onto her, but he assured her it would be all right. She calmed when he touched and kissed her more.

“Tel?”

“Hmm?” his coarse beard tickled the side of her cheek.

“I've never done this before.”

“If you don't want to do anything more, we don't have to,” his voice was deep and ragged, but sweet, though the comment honestly surprised him given her seemingly promiscuous behaviors.

“I want to,” she sighed, her voice was higher than normal. “I want it to be you. It finally feels...it feels...”

“It feels right?” He completed her sentence. “Do you feel safe with me?”

“Yeah...for the first time in my life...I know someone isn't going to try to hurt me.”

“I'd never hurt you,” Teldryn took her hand in his and kissed it. “Let me make you feel good.”

A strong wind from the sea rocked the shack making the wood creak, which made them both jump, but they laughed when they realized they were fine and still refreshingly alone.

Teldryn kissed her cheek close to her ear and whispered kindly. “Since it's your first time, it might hurt a bit. If you don't like it, I'll stop.”

“Okay,” she squeaked timidly.

He finished removing his clothes and positioned himself over her and lifted her dress, carefully taking himself by the hand and pushing the head between her fleshy labial folds. It was uncomfortably tight. He was not unreasonably sized for a woman of her stature, so she wasn't kidding when she said it was her first time. He pushed a bit harder and she squirmed and winced, he paused to make sure she wanted to keep going. “Just get it over with,” she said, somewhat frustrated. Once her hymen was broken it would be a different story, and she knew it.

Teldryn inserted himself with care until he was all the way in. It itched until he started to move. She cried out at all the new sensations she was experiencing, her long fingernails dug into his back. It had been a long time since a woman clung to him like that and he had to admit he loved it. Indira arched her hips into him, she wanted him deep and slow for the time being.

He didn't mind at all. It was all good for him. A woman he was interested in having relations with hadn't graced his presence for ages. He maintained his mellow cadence until she clawed at him, begging for more. He could feel her walls tighten around him, pulling him closer beyond his control. He thrust more vigorously, her enticed breaths and whispers peeped out and she pulled his hips into her, her nails scratching his flesh, Teldryn groaned with beastly fervor. It wouldn't be long. Indira yanked his head down for a kiss, she pulled him so close and her hips curved, the walls of her vagina crushed him and she released at last, letting out an exalted outcry. She grappled him tighter still and he plowed her harder as she loosened up. The pressure built up within and he came, his eyes rolled back and he grunted, his knees shaky and tired from the wooden floor beneath him, sweat beading up on his brow from the vigor and the heat of the day, thick black crest plastered to his face. He rested over top of her for a moment to collect himself and rejoin the mortal plane.

“Teldryn...” Indira sighed emtionally. “I've never...felt anything like it before.”

“Hmm?” he raised an slender curved eyebrow. “An orgasm?”

“N-no.”

His expression melted into incredulity. “Never? Not once? Not even...alone?”

She giggled. “No, Tel. I guess...I just never had the opportunity to try, I'm always being harrassed by my parents.”

He kissed her cheek. “Well, you're welcome. And perhaps you should explore. You'll thank me later.”

“But I want to thank you now,” Indira said. Her eyes were shiny and spoke a lot more than she did. A sense of dread overtook Teldryn. He shouldn't have let the situation get out of hand like this.

His old aching and stiff bones made him struggle as he stood on his feet. The both of them were sweaty and covered in ash and other debris. He noticed a streaking of blood on his penis and some between her legs and staining her dress.

“I'm sorry your first time had to be in a rundown old trap house.” He took her dainty hand and helped her to stand.

“It was perfect. I wouldn't change it for the world.”

“Come on,” he said. “Let's go for a swim. It's really hot out here and I can't take you home all discombobulated like that. Are you all right?”

“Yeah. A bit sore.”

“It's to be expected. It's won't always be that way.”

Indira was glowing in a way he wasn't accustomed to, but he knew that exact look: smitten. It made him uneasy.

They bathed and washed their clothes in the sea. The current flowing in from Skyrim made the water unsettlingly frigid, but thankfully the sun blared. The ash from the Red Mountain billowed in the other direction, so the skies were relatively clear and bright. They frolicked around in the water until they couldn't tolerate the cold any longer, then the two elves sunned themselves on the big rocks at the shore to warm back up. They talked and joked for awhile until they were warm and dry, the heat radiating from the the stone soothed Teldryn's aching joints and bones. Indira's little fingers curled around his hand, but he did not deny her. Despite everything, he found comfort from her touch. The lapping waves and seabreeze lulled them both into a slumber in no time.

An unknown increment of time passed and sudden pain shot through the back of his skull as he struck a stone in the sand. Teldryn realized he was lying on the ground, the ethereal screams of Indira fading in as he slipped out of his fleeting daze. “Stop! Don't hurt him!”

A firm grip yanked him forward by the front of his shirt, in his line of vision a blurred set of deranged orange eyes and a fist clad in a jagged edged ebony gauntlet reared and ready to strike.

“Throm!” he shouted! “Throm stop! It's me! It's Teldryn!”

Aghast, he released him, that obnoxious drawling voice couldn't be mistaken for anyone else. “Tel?! What?”

“Fantastic,” Teldryn rubbed the base of his head, the pain seared in his cranium from striking the hard ground. More annoyingly, he was covered in sand and ash once more.

“I'm sorry, Teldryn! I couldn't get the words out, it all happened so fast!” Indira quaked frantically.

Throm couldn't get over the concept of Teldryn without his armor. It was all he knew of him for fifteen years. He'd never have expected that tattooed face and that panache of hair. In all honesty, he expected someone much more dignified.

And Teldryn felt painfully exposed, even though it was his closest friend who had seen him like this, his plume of black hair now matted from the sea salt and riddled with sand. He was more peeved than he was anything. He supposed his friend would have seen him sooner or later but what a shame it was under circumstances that landed him in the dirt.

“I ought to send your soul to Boethiah for behaving so impulsively,” Teldryn reached his hand out and waved it demandingly for Throm to pull him to his feet. He dusted himself off to the best of his ability.

“What in the eight divines are you doing out here?”

“What do you think we're doing, you _s'wit_? We're relaxing. You should try it some time.” The palm of Teldryn's hand charged bright with gold which washed over his entire body in ribbons of glimmering light. Restoration magic. It helped to soothe his aching head.

Throm turned his attention to Indira. “Your parents said you were gone too long, so I came out looking for you both. I figured I'd find you here.”

Indira jeered. “You're such a fucking killjoy, Throm!” The tiny woman started trudging back toward the settlement by herself, walking awkwardly as she held her dress down taut over her hind end.

“Sure, be angry with me for doing my damn job,” Throm said to no one in particular and rolled his eyes. He took a moment to examine his friend's new appearance as he donned his armor. He was astonishingly handsome for a dark elf man, youth lingered in him even for his age (which he constantly reminded everyone of). His tattoos traced the outline of his high and prominent cheekbones, making his face appear more slender, with piercing ruby eyes contrasted against blue-gray flesh. His long Dunmer ears were more perked than many of his own kind, and even for eons of mercenary work, his complexion was without flaw, with no sign of sun weathering or other such physical damage. The most cleanly trimmed coal black beard framed his full lips and his head was neatly shaven on either side, on top was a ratty mop of black hair, which Throm assumed was not currently as he'd normally wear it given the situation.

“Are you going to stare at me the entire time, or are you going to help me fasten my chest piece before the girl gets too far ahead? I'm hurt and can't reach it.” Teldryn whined exaggeratedly.

“Oh for fuck's sake!” huffed Throm and he hastily put together the last few buckles. “What were you doing without your armor on anyway? That's—dare I say—unlike you.”

“We were doing exactly what you saw before you brutalized me.” Teldryn defended.

“You fucked her, didn't you?”

Teldryn choked on his own saliva. “By Azura, you're a blunt one aren't you?! Don't be daft!” He knew he was lying. And so did Throm.

“Don't take me for a fool, Sero. I've seen how she looks at you...batting her eyelashes. You dog.”

“Keep your gods damned mouth shut!” he hissed through his teeth.

“I don't give a flying skeever's ass what you do, Tel. It's your business. Be a little more discreet so the wrong people don't catch you in the act. You're supposed to be protecting her, not railing her in a dirty shack.” Throm walked away from him to catch up with Indira. Teldryn slammed his helmet over his head irritably and tossed his cowl over his face.

None of trio spoke to one another when they reached home. The girl returned to her house and the two mercenaries remained at The Netch for awhile, still avoiding conversation while they ate evening meals. Red and Sourpuss were back again too, and Teldryn observed Throm's mannerisms. He was definitely different in the way he stared, normally giving them both the stink eye. Teldryn couldn't figure out why he had been so bitter towards them in the first place. They had kept to themselves ever since they arrived on Solstheim. They were nothing short of kind towards others and worked hard to earn their keep while they were stranded. Teldryn quite liked their positive presence on the island, especially being so accustomed to the jaded residents of Raven Rock.

No, there was a vast change in Throm since he saved the husbands from Ash Spawn and escorted them back to the relative safety of the bulwark. His focus was mainly on the fair-haired Romlyn, he noticed the corner of his lips plainly and with great difficulty trying to hold back an endearing grin whenever the little Dunmer did...just about anything, really. It parallelled the expressions Indira gave Teldryn, all too well and all too conveniently. But the overall foulness Throm expressed deeply concerned him. What manner of darkness holed itself up within this elf?

Since the secret was already out, Throm and Teldryn went to the bathhouse together to perhaps clear the air a bit, at least that's what Teldryn hoped for. Also he found the stickiness of sea salt and grit of sand intolerable. He requested to Geldis that they have privacy, to which he gladly obliged.

After the few stragglers finished their baths and returned home, the pair disrobed without any shame and relaxed in the nearly boiling water pumping in through brass pipes inspired by Dwemer design, though still silent. Throm finally broke the ice.

“I told you I don't care about you and Indira,” he said simply as he leaned his head back against the head rest and closed his eyes, sighing the frustrations of the day through his nose. “And I'm not going to tell anyone about your secret identity.”

“I trust you,” Teldryn remarked with certainty. “It's you, I want to talk about.”

The high elf opened one eye to look at him. “What is there to talk about? Just because I know one of your secrets doesn't mean I have to divulge mine.”

“No, it doesn't,” the dark elf agreed. “But you don't seem bothered at all by the way you've been looking at a married man.”

Throm sat forward so quickly the bath water splashed. “What are you implying? That is absurd! I don't like men...”

Teldryn took note that he was way more defensive than was necessary. “It's just I don't understand why you're so ashamed of it in the first place. It's completely natural...”

“I didn't ask for your advice.”

Teldryn scrubbed his hair with soap. “Every single night since I have met you, I have heard you weep until you can't anymore. It's unsettling. It's heartbreaking. What ails you? I'm asking you. As your friend.”

“It's _none_ of your fucking business!” Throm heaved himself out of the water about to walk away.

Teldryn began to become frustrated. “Get back here! You ever think that maybe if you talked about your problems you might be able to work towards fixing them? No, instead you drink skooma and pretend that life isn't real.”

Throm halted in his tracks, water trickling from the curves in his body and pooling on the floor. He said nothing.

“I've seen you sneaking sips in various places, Throm.”

“Why?” Throm said softly. “Why did you have to go there?”

“At least you admit it,” Teldryn hoisted himself out of the bath and grabbed a towel to stand face to face with him. “Now come on. Please...let me help you.”

“You can't help me.”

“And why in Mephala's name not?”

“Because...I don't know! I don't remember anything, all right! Stop pestering me.” Instead of anger, he fell to sorrow.

Teldryn handed him a towel. “I'm sorry...I didn't know any other way to get through to you. I do care about you, you know. Even if you are a prick sometimes. I thought that was part of your charm once upon a time. But I know a man who is hurting when I see him. Everyone else might hate you. But I don't.”

Throm didn't know what to do with those words, but he didn't want to admit aloud that they made him feel better.

“And it's completely okay if you have feelings toward Sourpuss. He's a lovable idiot. I can see his charm.”

“I do not! Get off it!”

“I don't want you to hurt yourself with your own expectations, is all.”

“He has nothing to do with anything! I'm done with this conversation.” Throm grabbed his clothes and left the bathhouse in quick, long strides.

Teldryn felt terrible, but at least he got the gears turning. The ugliness needed to be addressed. Red and Sourpuss didn't deserve that kind of treatment from him anyway. Maybe this talk was self-serving. Maybe he was digging in places that needed to be buried, but the fact of the matter was that Throm was actually a very good friend to him. It was starting to seem strange not to know anything about a person who was close.

The dark elf hopped back into the water to finish his bath and compose himself and once again.

Throm slammed the door of his room and tossed his belongings to the floor, then sat on the bed, head in hands. Who does Teldryn think he is? Nosy little cunt. A torrent of thoughts plagued Throm's mind. But there was a hollow within him that he could not explain. He picked up his bow from the corner of the room and examined it, fingers traced over faded illegible text and an outline of a single cherry blossom beginning to deteriorate. This was the key to his lost memories, he just knew it. But he didn't want to remember...or did he? He placed the bow back in the corner and pulled a bottle of skooma from the drawer, inhaling a hefty draught from it. Stupid Teldryn.

Visions of Romlyn soon clouded his mind as he sat back on the bed...turns out the old elf wasn't wrong after all. He shouldn't have felt that way, but he couldn't help himself. How could anyone drift through life so happy-go-lucky? Kissing his husband everywhere he went without so much as a second thought. Why did it make him so angry? Throm downed the rest of the skooma and blacked out.

Teldryn still couldn't shake the guilt of violating Throm's privacy so forthcomingly. He might have come down too hard on him to start. After all, it was the first time they ever crossed such boundaries with one another. It really wasn't his concern. Their friendship was built on shallowness, why couldn't it stay that way? Moreover, what did this mean for them now that he'd overstepped the line?

There was something liberating about his friend finally seeing his face, as well. Teldryn didn't know why he had to be so secretive. His past was his past and it was hundreds of years ago. Why should it matter now? It's not like he used an alias. If anyone wanted to find him, he was sure it would be easy enough. He'd simply done it for so long it was part of who he was.

As he hung back on the pillow and contemplated life, he began to nod off until he heard a gentle knock at the door. He didn't believe it was real at first but answered anyway. His late visitor was Indira. She pushed past the threshold without a word and shoved Teldryn to the bed, trapping him with a kiss. Teldryn didn't bother fighting her and succumbed to his desires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was such a chore. I wasn't really feeling my Indira character, and after a few rewrites and edits and other such things, I think I made it feel like Teldryn's relationship with her isn't forced, but it's most definitely complicated, and I find the new dynamic much better. It wasn't developing the way I had initially intended, and if I may be honest, I'm not fond of Indira very much, so this development is taking much longer than I want it to, I'm trying to work it out. I also tried to cram in some character development. I want to get this ball rolling. 11 chapters and nothing major is going on yet. So hopefully it's smooth sailing from here!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's about time I get things moving along! I like exploring emotions, relationships, and character development, but it was getting a bit stagnant and more stuff needed to give. I had the plot planned from the beginning but wasn't sure how to organically incorporate it, so do forgive me for the handful of stiff chapters. I'm trying to cover everyone's troubles without rushing. Things are about to get way out of hand for everyone, I can assure you!

The sound of gentle breathing and the comfort of a warm body pressed against his bare skin left Teldryn in a pacified state. It had been ages since he shared a bed with anyone. But the guilt nagged at him. He shouldn't have allowed for this to happen. _Again. _  
  
Indira lay curled up beside him, her body rising and falling steadily with every peaceful breath. Teldryn hated to wake her, but it was preferable to the consequences they'd suffer if anyone found out about them. He peered out the door of his room, the tavern about as as active as a cemetary. He snuck out to the back door to check how much of the night remained, and to his dismay the settlement glowed blue with dawn's first light. He returned to rouse Indira before anyone else was up.  
  
"Indira, you have to go."  
  
The girl groaned and stretched before settling back into the pillows.  
  
"Indiraaaaaa," he chimed melodically.  
  
"What?" she grumbled with agitation.  
  
"You have to go home before everyone wakes."  
  
She sat up quickly, though still groggy, and clumsily tossed herself onto him in an embrace. "I wanna stay like this."  
  
Teldryn felt terribly ashamed of himself. "You can't."  
  
He helped her dress and sneak out the back, making sure she remained unseen until she reached her window. Once she was in, he meandered lazily back to his room to finish his rest. Which proved to be a chore. His heart throbbed anxiously and the blood in his body felt electric and restless worrying about how he led that poor girl on so selfishly. That was when he decided he couldn't be around her for awhile and would request a period of leave from the Andrelos.  
  
The anxiety plagued him until it was time to get up. Weary and dreadful, Teldryn got himself around for the day for a light breakfast. Throm was up before him yet again, and when he saw him he shook his head. It remained unspoken that he knew what had gone on in the night, especially since he heard all of it.  
  
"Please don't shame me," Teldryn said blearily. "I feel bad enough as it is."  
  
That was when the most shocking statement came out of Throm's mouth, so nonchalant and strangely insightful as he shoveled hominy into his gullet. "The heart wants what it wants, Tel."  
  
The Altmer never once looked him in the eye as he said it. Instead he observed the condiments and pitcher of milk set upon the table, almost like he was inspecting them. Teldryn knew he had Romlyn on his mind. He never admitted it outright, but he could see it in the way he looked at him, how much brighter his doomy-gloomy friend became every time that silly little mer was present. In his hushed way of offering a tidbit of his own sagely wisdom, he responded, "Sometimes the heart likes to tease us with things we know are not right."  
  
Throm harumphed and took a swig of milk from his mug to wash down the remaining grits.  
  
Teldryn sighed heavily. "Speaking of which, I should inform you I'm asking to take a period of leave today."  
  
"Why on Nirn would you want to do that?" Throm huffed in disdain. "They pay very well and the job is easy."  
  
"I know," he replied forlornly. "I think it's in my best interest not to...let it go on like this."  
  
"Suit yourself," Throm shrugged.  
  
Teldryn stared at him for a moment, unsure if he should say what he was about to but managed to muster it weakly, a slight waver in his voice. "Take good care of her."  
  
Throm, still in utter disbelief that Teldryn was even considering this as an option, orange eyes gazing with intensity, responded with confidence. "You know I will."  
  
It took working up some courage to even ask the Andrelo family for leave. The house was seemingly empty. Indira was still in bed late. Teldryn assumed Edris and Melvosa were in the parlor having brunch and chit-chatting about whatever wealthy people go on about. He raised his fist to knock, but some unusual information struck his ears and he eavesdropped.  
  
"If she is the descendant of the Nerevarine..."  
  
Teldryn didn't catch the conversation from the beginning but the word that stuck out to him was "Nerevarine." Now that was certainly something of interest. He pressed his ear up against the crack of the door to better hear them.  
  
"She must remain pure or she is of no value to them," the voice was that of snooty Edris.  
  
Teldryn almost laughed out loud, thinking about the silly notion of his penis being so supernatural that it changed Indira's entire state of being. If this was the case, he was thankful he "defiled" her, if it meant she didn't have to go through this.  
  
What really threw him for a loop based on the information he gathered as he listened, was that they were _not_ her biological parents. But who were they? Did they steal this girl from her family? They had her since her infancy. There was no way for Indira to even know the difference. As far as she was aware, Melvosa and Edris were her mother and father.  
  
But money? This is what this was about? Selling a relation of the Nerevarine to another wealthy family for a dowry...it seemed like much more than meets the eye.  
  
But there was also a chance that she may not be who they think she is. It was speculation. No matter who or what she is, they had no right to treat her like property. He had to tell her what he heard as soon as possible. He eavesdropped awhile longer to see if he could gather more intel.  
  
"I can't believe you allow her to frolic with that spellsword. I don't trust a man with her, especially not a mercenary. You know how they are. Mercenaries only want two things and that's gold and gash..."  
  
Teldryn smirked. It wasn't untrue. Though Edris didn't have to be so crude about it.  
  
"I've been giving her the tea religiously every day since she came of age. Right at the sign of her first menses." Melvosa said.  
  
That damned tea, Teldryn thought. He suddenly knew exactly what kind of herbs they had been feeding the girl. It had been to suppress her libido. He recalled her erratic behavior for the past few days. She must not have been drinking it. Clever girl.  
  
"At least we know the gold bastard won't touch her," Edris said. "His kind are all about purity. He'd never want to sully himself with another race."  
  
How wrong they were, with the Dunmeri whores Throm bedded on the regular. But he felt bad they spoke ill of Throm too, especially since he was so loyal and respectful to them. He'd never done wrong by them. Come to think of it, Teldryn never had either, at least not until recently. It was cruel to keep people from their natural desires.  
  
No, he couldn't turn his back on Indira now, not after what he learned. She had a right to know. He went back to Throm, thankfully he bumped into him along the way.  
  
"I need to speak with you in private. It's urgent."  
  
Throm was confused, but he obliged. They met back in the privacy of Throm's room. Teldryn explained the situation to him quietly.  
  
"Are you absolutely sure?" he asked.  
  
"With every fiber of my being, Throm. I don't know what they have planned for that poor girl, but I can't let her be sold like she's some kind of... _thing_."  
  
Throm crossed his arms smugly. "Coming from a people who kept the lizard-folk for farm equipment?"  
  
Teldryn gave him a dirty look. "I have _never_ accepted slavery."__

____

“All right, relax. So what do you wish to do about this?”

____

Regrettably, he hadn't thought that far ahead. First thing was first, he needed to find more concrete evidence. Secondly, Indira need to be informed. Moreover, he prayed that she would trust him. How convenient to have just started a physical relationship and to say “your parents are no good, let's run away!” It was heinous. It was juvenile. And from his perspective, an act of manipulation. For the first time in his long life, he didn't quite know how to handle the situation.

____

____

***

____

____

Indira yawned and stretched, her mind still dreamy from the escapade the night before. And yet...something still didn't feel quite right. Maybe she shouldn't have forced Teldryn into a corner like she did. But she couldn't shake the memory of that stretch in her groin, that burn as if by fire, and the friction of their flesh, the way her heart beat like an explosion within her chest. But Teldryn seemed so distant in the night, like he was just going through the motions. What he had said in the shack stuck with her as well. “It's not meant to last.”

____

In any case, she needed some kind of advice, and who better than the most famous lovers on Solstheim at the moment? After she dressed, Indira tried her best to slink past her mother in the kitchen, who insisted on more tea. Indira didn't want the tea anymore. She'd been pretending to drink it and poured her cup into the houseplants. Needless to say she possessed much more vigor without it in her system. Were they drugging her?

____

“I don't think I want my tea today, mother. I've been feeling sick from it lately.”

____

“Nonsense,” snivelled Melvosa. “It's very good for you. I _insist_.” Her tone fell cold, stringent. She poured the boiling water over the herbs and slid the porcelain cup in her direction.

____

There was no other option. Her mother would never avert her gaze until she witnessed her consuming the liquid this time. _I should have kept my mouth shut._

____

“Very good, dear,” she leered as her daughter washed the beverage down. Fuck, did she ever hate the taste.

____

Without another word, Indira trudged out the door to Severin Manor where the Dunmer couple were renting. She hammered on their front door somewhat desperately, not realizing how brutal she was being. Vendras answered the door, but the start of his greeting was interrupted by an ecstatic “REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!” and he flinched at the noise.

____

“Hewwo, Stumpy wumpy!” The girl baby talked to the creature, who had nearly doubled in size since she'd last seen him. “Who's a good boy! You are! Yes you are!”

____

Vendras cleared his throat. “Ahem! May I help you Indira?”

____

She winced a bit, realizing she wasn't being very polite ignoring him for his pet. “Oh, yes. I'm sorry. Can...could I just come in for a bit? I need to talk to...someone.”

____

Vendras raised an auburn eyebrow at her desperation, but didn't see the harm in inviting her inside. “Um...all right.”

____

The tall Dunmer shuffled around a bit at the cooking range. “May I offer you some tea?”

____

Indira coughed. “Mephala's tits, no!”

____

Her response caused him to pause and stare wide-eyed at her.

____

“Wha-? Oh, Vendras, I'm sorry. I just...I have a slight aversion to tea. I didn't mean to lash out at you.”

____

“I do have other things to drink, if you would prefer that instead,” he chuckled. Vendras was always so calm and collected during any situation.

____

A door from downstairs slammed. Romlyn had been exiting the bath. Vendras called down to him. “Make sure you're dressed, darling! We have company.”

____

“Company?” called a ragged voice that sounded surprised. “Who in blazes would visit us?”

____

Vendras rolled his eyes endearingly. “Just put some damn clothes on,” he yelled. He made himself comfortable at the dining table. “So what's on your mind, young lady?”

____

Indira realized she didn't know exactly how to word what she wanted to say. Or what she even wanted to say at all. Her cheeks flushed and her nerves quaked. She tried to think as she twiddled her fingers. “Well...I...you see...gods! This is so uncomfortable but I don't have anyone else I can talk to.”

____

“It's fine, I'm sure.” Vendras encouraged.

____

Pesrpiration formed on her brow and on her upper lip, and her face burned hotly. “Well I...we...I fucked Teldryn!”

____

Vendras spit his tea half way across the room.

____

Romlyn had come upstairs in the meantime toweling his white hair dry having heard a good portion of her statement. “Did he leave his helmet on?”

____

“Romlyn!” Vendras scolded.

____

His husband shrugged. Stumps danced around his legs.

____

“Shit...”

____

“Indira,” Vendras took on a soothing tone, his tenor voice as smooth as whipping cream. “You came to us in your time of need, and we'll listen. But um...we need to know what kind of...we need to know what you want from us.”

____

She took a moment or so to explain everything as well as she could, from the carnival until the present, and in a way let slip that she saw the pair as a model couple, which honestly flattered the two of them in a way. It was nice to set a good example.

____

“Seems a bit complicated,” Romlyn said. He swatted at Stumps who was tugging on his pant leg with his teeth. “Will you knock it off!”

____

Indira giggled.

____

Ignoring his two idiots, Vendras did his best to offer some advice. “I can't speak for Teldryn, but you don't need to be in a romantic relationship for what you have to be valuable. I think you were both in a compromised state of mind and, everyone has _needs_ of course. It doesn't mean he's using you or doesn't care about you. In fact, I quite think he cares a lot about you. As does Throm.”

____

“I'm not actively trying to seduce Throm,” Indira replied with a hint of disgust.

____

Vendras laughed. “That's not the point I'm trying to make.” He was very thankful not to have children if they were this ludicrous. As much as he enjoyed being helpful, talking to a neglected woman-child about life was not exactly his strong suit.

____

Indira fidgeted in her seat. She wasn't quite sure how she wanted to word her next question. “How...uh...how did you two _know_? Like...that it was right and that you were in love?”

____

Romlyn and Vendras shared an uncomfortable glance. Romlyn spoke. “It's not really easy to explain without sounding completely cliché, which is offputting in and of itself. In my honest opinion, if you need to question it like this, maybe you shouldn't pursue it.”

____

The girl made an uncertain expression.

____

Vendras spoke again. “I don't mean to burst your bubble, but we're not really the ones you should be discussing this with. You need to talk with Teldryn. You shouldn't make decisions based on assumptions and you need to explore where you both stand on the matter. The results may not be instant and it could be a process for you both. Emotions are complex.”

____

Indira pursed her lips and contemplated for a few moments. “No...no. You're right. This helps. Thank you both. I'm deeply sorry to trouble you like this. I just don't have the experience to make the best decisions and I'd very much like to start I...I'm not allowed to do much, you see.”

____

“We're observant,” said Vendras. “And we completely understand. Asking for help is already a wise and mature decision to make. You'll do fine.”

____

“I should go before I'm missed,” she said. “Thank you again. You're very kind people.”

____

Vendras and Romlyn went about their day as usual after Indira left. Everything was normal for a couple of hours when there was another knock on the door.

____

“Again?!” complained Romlyn. “I'll answer it this time, _daelha_.” He jumped at the unexpected sight of dirty goggles and a crab-like head.

____

“Good to see you, Sourpuss. If you and your husband would be so inclined, I'd like to ask a very important favor of you both if you'll hear it...”

____


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay shit is going down pretty fucking hard now after all that slow nonsense. I'm very happy with this chapter. A little bit of chaos for everyone. Oh, and some Romlyn doing Romlyn stuff! Enjoy!

“Oh no! Absolutely not! I am _not_ getting involved with this,” Romlyn proclaimed hotly after Teldryn stated his affairs. “I said before something strange is happening on this island. It's bad enough our only way home capsized! I'm still wondering when anyone is going to miss us. Are they looking? Do they even care we're gone?!...”

He proceeded to rant and rave about all things unrelated to the situation, but Teldryn understood his frustrations. Even he started to feel desperate.

“I would never ask anyone to do my dirty work, but since you're outlanders and have no ties to the Andrelo family, I thought you'd have an easier time retrieving the information I need.”

“How do we even know you're not in on it?” growled Romlyn. “We don't even know what you look like and would never be able to identify you.”

“I—,” Teldryn, for the first time in his life, was rendered speechless. He couldn't blame the little mer for being cautious. It was difficult to explain the complexities of the situation without giving up too much about his personal life. “I...I don't want to hurt Indira.” He wasn't aware the couple already knew about his relations with the young woman.

The unusual waver in the crab-mer's voice was telling enough to Vendras he meant the girl no harm. “Now sweetheart, there is no need to raise your voice,” he said calmly to Romlyn. “I respect your stance, on this matter, but let's hear Teldryn out.” His turned his gaze to the chitin-clad warrior. “Perhaps we can reach a compromise on this issue. Your identity for our aid?” It was more of a question than a request. Romlyn was not thrilled regardless.

Teldryn shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “I'm sorry...I just...I can't do that. I respect your right to distrust me given the circumstances. And I don't wish to endanger your lives. I don't want to make any sudden moves until I know the details. It's more suspicious if Throm or myself are caught snooping where our noses don't belong. If I'm wrong, Indira would never forgive me.” Saying it out loud hurt him more than it should have.

Vendras and Romlyn stepped into another room to privately discuss it. It took much coaxing, but Vendras managed to get Romlyn to agree with them, though they dreaded performing more housecleaning jobs for that insufferable family, it would make it much easier to find documents, letters, or anything else that might help Teldryn obtain the proof he required. The Andrelo family had no reason to suspect the husbands of any foul play. It proved difficult to trust Teldryn, but with the information presented to them, they didn't want to see a girl sold off to some strange family for a profit. Vendras could never have lived with himself if something like that happened right under his nose. Romlyn sometimes hated his partner was so benevolent, at the same time it inspired him.

“You think you can just bat your eyelashes at me and get anything you want?” Romlyn crossed his arms, in annoyance.

Vendras said nothing and made literally no effort to make himself more attractive or alluring. His face was as flat as a flapjack.

Romlyn clicked his tongue and gave in dropping his arms to his sides. “Gods damn you, Vendras...”

They met with Teldryn waiting patiently in the parlor with his arms crossed. “We've agreed to help you,” said Vendras.

Teldryn broke character, unable to contain his excitement at the news. “Oh! Azura bless your kind hearts! I knew I could count on you!”

Vendras and Romlyn devised a plan that would get them access to Edris's study. Surely they would find the documentation they needed in there. Teldryn took Indira out for the day as they'd always done so she wouldn't become suspicious. Vendras entertained Edris and Melvosa while Romlyn “cleaned” upstairs, and Throm kept watch for him at the bottom. He was to cough three consecutive times to alert him if the Andrelos headed up there. With prior knowledge of the dwelling's layout, he gained entry to Edris's study with ease. The door hung wide open, like he had nothing to hide. Curious to Romlyn. That's exactly what Edris would want someone to believe, and Romlyn, ever the sneaky one knew all these tricks. He shuffled through all the papers on the desk to see if anything hid in plain sight, stacking them neatly to make it look like he was doing his duty. He rummaged in the desk drawers, but all he could find were odds and ends personal effects and a small amount of moon sugar. “Why am I not surprised?” Romlyn whispered to himself. After searching a few end tables and cabinets he came up empty handed, releasing a defeated sigh when he noticed the corner of a safe peeking from beneath a woven tapestry draped over top. “You scoundrel,” he grinned widely. Since he'd met Vendras, he hadn't the opportunity nor the desire to break into anything. Alas, he didn't have a lockpick, since he no longer had the need for one. He searched the desk drawer again for something to use, and lo and behold he found a pair of long, skinny metal tools which were used for scraping residue from a skooma pipe, just the right size for picking a lock. “Fucking perfect,” grinned the sneaky little Dunmer.

Romlyn unveiled the safe and pressed his long ear up against the cold steel door as he maneuvered the metal tools around in the keyhole, gauging all the correct clicks of the tumblers within. He had the door open within moments, chuffed with himself. “Like riding a guar. You never forget.”

Though it caused him physical anguish to bypass such things, he ignored the gold, gems, and valuables within to sift through the paperwork. Property deeds, titles, letters of inheritance (why were there so many?) written wills...aha! A letter. The seal had already been broken, so Romlyn had no issue reading the contents in secret. Stealing it outright would have been much too obvious, so he grabbed a quill and roll of paper from Edris's desk so he could write down all pertinent information. He grew increasingly more disgusted throughout the letter, scrawling names, dates, and the exact information they needed to know. Indira was indeed for sale as if she was a nix hound bitch.

There was something else within the safe. He removed a rolled thick parchment from within and untied the ribbon binding it. It had some age to it, but his heart grew heavy when he opened it. It was Indira's adoption papers. These vile creatures weren't even her parents.

Throm coughed loudly from downstairs, which made Romlyn's heart skip a beat. He didn't have enough time to examine that document thoroughly enough. He rolled it back up and tied the ribbon back on and stuffed his other paper into his pocket. He took great care in returning everything just as he'd found them before rushing to an activity as he heard lazy footfalls on the wooden stairs draw ever near. When Edris found him, he was polishing the glass of a cabinet door. “That will be all for today, Master Volur-Dreth. Thank you. You'll receive your pay at the end of the week as per usual.”

Romlyn smiled on the inside. Not even a lick of suspicion. All he knew was that he was looking forward to getting out of that house. The oppressive atmosphere that now hovered over him made him sick to his stomach. With a polite bow, he went downstairs.

Vendras's eyes were wide with interrogation, and Romlyn gave him a silent nod to let him know he got what they required. They didn't speak a word of it until they were far enough away from the Andrelo residence. Throm staggered his exit so it didn't arouse any notions of conspiracy.

“So much for not wanting to be involved,” Vendras grinned cheekily.

“Oh shut it,” Romlyn snapped. Though he couldn't deny to himself it was kind of fun. He felt the rush of reckless youth again. But he sighed. Even though the activity itself was enjoyable, the reason behind it was not.

Throm at last met with the Dunmer. “So what did you gather?”

“If you don't mind, I'd rather wait for Teldryn,” he said. There was no bitterness in his tone and Throm agreed that it was best.

***

“Teldryn, you're acting really strange today,” observed Indira. She was skipping stones across the ocean's surface, watching them disappear with the rising waves of the tide.

“A lot on my mind,” he responded dully.

“Is it about the other day?”

He couldn't lie to her. She had enough liars in her life. “In part.” The other secret he kept nagged at him, but he didn't want to tell her before he knew with certainty.

“I don't think we should be physical anymore,” he said after a few moments of mulling it over.

“Okay.” She launched a fireball into a tall wave. It extinguished with a “psst” against the water.

He raised a curvy eyebrow at her. That's all it took? He couldn't help but feel like she was repressing something. “I do like you. But...not like that.”

“I'll get over it,” she said emotionlessly.

“Who are you and what have you done with Indira?”

The little Dunmer woman laughed, which perplexed him even more.

“Are you...closing yourself off to me? Or is there something you _really_ need to get off your chest?”

Indira ceased her stone and fireball launching and sighed. “No. I've just been doing a lot of thinking. I don't want our friendship to go to waste over something stupid...namely, my inexperience and inability to handle my emotions.”

To say the very least, this came as a shock to him, but he couldn't help but be proud of her in a way. He had to be sure they were clear. “So no more sneaking into my room at night?”

Indira agreed with a nod. “No more of it.”

Relief overtook him. The girl took a seat beside him on the rock. She was quiet for far too long and he only turned to look at her when she sniffled lightly, tears streaming from her eyes.

“What's wrong?” he placed an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

“I'm scared.”

Was there something he didn't know? “Darling, there's nothing to be afraid of. I'm here.”

Sorrow burned her nose and throat and she sniffled again. “Yes...yes there is, Teldryn. You won't be here with me anymore soon. My parents, they...”

Indira tried to choke out the words with great difficulty, but they were caught in her throat.

Teldryn could feel heat in his core as he became enraged. “What? What did they do?”

“They changed the date of the arranged marriage. It...it's in a few weeks instead of a few months.”

No...

“By the end of next week we're supposed to be packed up to leave for Blacklight. I don't even know this guy! What if he's a jerk? What if he's ugly?”

Blacklight, Teldryn's nostalgic childhood home. It sickened him that this was about to transpire there. Maybe it's not what he thought...maybe he misheard Edris and Melvosa...no. Don't be foolish, Teldryn. You heard what you heard.

“Wow,” he said incredulously. “I...I don't even know what to say.”

Indira rested her head on his shoulder. She cried until she could no longer feel, and stared blankly at the reddish orange sunset over the water. If one squinted hard enough, they could see the border of Skyrim in the far distance, depending on how high the tides were.

He remembered Red and Sourpuss and their task. Surely they found something by now.

“Hey,” he said gently to her. “Let's get back to the bulwark, huh? Get a few drinks at the Netch? It might be one of our last times. So let's make the best of it.”

“Don't say that,” she said. “It makes it feel too real.”

“Come on,” he helped her to her feet and slid his helmet back on.

The Retching Netch was rather dead this evening, like it was a reflection of their intense sorrow.

Geldis's servers had gone home, so he served them himself, bringing them both their preferred meals and drinks. Teldryn hated how Indira prodded at her food with her fork in discontent.

“Eat. Don't go without nourishment, all right?”

She tried her best, ingesting about half, but she felt so sick she couldn't finish. She didn't even touch her sujamma. Secretly, Teldryn was glad, as he didn't want her to fall into bad habits again. Heavy footsteps traipsed down the stone steps into the dining area. Throm.

“There you are,” he said when he saw the pair sitting there. “I was wondering when you two would make it back."

Teldryn dreaded seeing him. It meant that they were one step closer to a discussion he didn't want to have. But it was necessary. Throm knew better than to say anything right there. “When you're done with your dinner, come to Severin.” That let Teldryn know they had found something substantial. He went to his room to change out of his ebony armor and he left again, saying nothing as he brushed passed.

Indira looked confused. “What's he doing at their house?” she asked. “I thought he hated those two.”

“Throm is about as complicated as he is tall,” Teldryn replied. He left a tip for Geldis upon the table, then took her tiny hand to help her stand and headed straight there. The three elves already inside looked surprised to see Indira with him, but he felt it important for her to hear it straight from the source.

Indira had a nervous feeling something was up. She didn't like the looks on any of their faces, especially not Romlyn's. Even Stumps, the infantile guar sat with an unusual stillness and quiet, leaning hard beside Romlyn's thigh on the sofa.

“Please sit,” he said and pulled out a chair for her. “Romlyn...”

It jarred all of them that Teldryn didn't refer to him as his nickname.

“...I'm assuming you found evidence?”

Romlyn nodded gently. “I'm afraid so.”

“What's going on?” Indira asked. “Why do you all look like you just came from a funeral?”

Vendras, Romlyn, and not even Throm could bear to look upon her.

Teldryn squeezed her shoulder. “There are a few nefarious things that have come up that are important for you to know, my dear.”

Romlyn walked the paper he wrote with the information over to Teldryn. He looked over the paper himself before handing it to Indira. The whole room fell silent, terrified to breathe as she read it.

“I don't understand,” her voice wavered. “What is all of this?”

Teldryn explained what he'd overheard from her parents and what prompted him to ask Vendras and Romlyn for their help. Romlyn's heart perhaps weighed the heaviest in the room, having read it straight from the source, and as much as he hated to reiterate it, he stated everything he could recall verbatim. He also told Indira about the adoption papers, but regretably couldn't give her much more than that as Edris interrupted his investigation.

Throm leaned against the wall in the corner, head turned away from all of them, breath heavy and heart stirring nervously in his chest. He'd tried for so long not to care, but so much of Indira's life parallelled his own...the parts he remembered anyway. Remembering again...it was hard to break away from holding up that wall, feeling it inappropriate, but he just had to leave the room. “May I use your washroom?” he whispered quietly to Vendras, and he excused him carefully so as not to interrupt this bizarre intervention, eyes met uncomfortably with Romlyn's on the way, but he abruptly looked away. His ears warmed and he hurried down the hall.

Romlyn's eyes tracked him suspiciously all the way down the hall until he saw the door to the washroom close. Vendras hadn't realized it, but Romlyn knew what he was doing. He'd wait until later to address Throm himself about it in a more private setting.

Throm pulled the bolt closed so no one could enter. The washroom held the pleasant fragrance of soap and florals...the same scent that wafted from Romlyn's fair hair and clothing when he was close by. He inhaled deeply of the aroma. It nearly made him forget the real reason he'd gone in there. Throm shook his head. “What's wrong with me?” He pulled that purple bottle from his inside pocket and gulped down a majority of the sweet liquid. He slid down the wooden door to the floor. Head spinning, veins burning, he caught a glimpse of himself across the room in the trifold mirror, pathetic and needy. He closed his eyes so he didn't have to look at himself. The memories struck him anyway, they struck as hard as his father's massive hand against the side of his face...cheekbone and temple throbbing as his father haunted him in that room.

Indira had that going for her, at least. In all his years under their employ, he never once saw Edris or Melvosa raise a hand to that girl. It would have triggered something within him and he'd have killed them already. But the guilt...he and Teldryn let those people get away with unspeakable horrors for so long.

Ugh. Feeling. _Why_ was he feeling? He downed the rest of his skooma and sat there as his heart raced from the stimulant properties. He fell into a hyper dream-like state, though he was still conscious, that residual fragrance of the bath continued to fill his nostrils, the visage of Romlyn entered his mind. His heart fluttered even faster. Curse that dark elf! Curse him to the worst plane of Oblivion...

“Stop...” he uttered aloud to himself. “It's wrong...it's all wrong.”

He was falling for him. It repulsed him. And yet...

“It's not about him right now. It's _not_ about _me_!” Throm squeezed his head between his giant hands. “Fucking focus!” He pulled another bottle of skooma from his inside pocket and took another swig.

“Stop,” a gravelly ethereal voice echoed in many harmonies within his skull. He was hallucinating. “You'll kill yourself!”

“Romlyn?” he said aloud, his voice reverberated in the same way against the walls of the room. His body fell to the cool stone and everything went black.

A commotion faded into reality with the scratching of claws at the door, weird animal noises almost like a mooing sound and Vendras and Romlyn on the otherside yelling and pounding on the wood trying to pull on the locked door.

“Throm?! THROM! Open the gods damned door!” Romlyn's voice was rife with panic and fear.

“Stand back. I'll get the fucking thing open!” Vendras snarled, and he pried on the handle with great force until the door bolt itself bent and the door flung outward towards them. They found Throm lying on the floor, Stumps ran inside and began nuzzling the high elf lying on the cold stone, whimpering.

“For Azura's sake you better not have died on the Dragonborn's floor!” It took both Romlyn and his husband to lift him, and they carried him in tandem to one of the guest beds. Throm's eyes rolled lazily in his head.

“Praise the three saints, Ven, he's alive. Get me some water.” He proceeded to slap him gently on the cheeks trying to get him to come to. Stumps stood at the edge of the bed watching, little claws at the side struggling to jump up with him. “No, buddy. Leave him be,” Romlyn said sweetly and pulled the guar away.

Vendras came back with the water. He poured some over his burning forehead and lifted his head up to get some into his mouth. Throm sputtered, but it woke him up some more, though he was still quite incoherent.

Teldryn had returned. He took Indira home quickly, and on his way back obtained some herbs from Milore. He knew she was into the stuff too. It didn't take much coaxing for her to give him what he needed when he said Thom needed help. He only hoped it wasn't too late, but that girl seemed to know far too much about overdosing on skooma. He did what he needed to do with those ingredients to make a remedy as quickly as possible. “Fucking asshole,” he muttered to himself. “I knew this was going to happen sooner or later.” He grew increasingly more angry as sweat dripped into his eyes.

He scooped the sticky paste he'd conconcted onto a spoon and shoved it into the back of Throm's mouth a bit more forcefully than what was necessary. He choked, but choking woke him up even more and Teldryn spooned in another of his remedy. This time he swallowed it. He gave him a few more and Vendras poured some water in. It took about fifteen to twenty minutes before he started to come to. He'd heard all the shouting and cursing around him, but he thought it a dream.

Throm blinked the blurriness from his eyes, three stressed Dunmer hovering over him.

“Oh good, you're awake! Now I can fucking strangle you!”

“Teldryn!” As big and strong as Vendras was, it was a struggle to hold him back.

“I need a drink!” Teldryn stormed away to the kitchen upstairs, leaving the husbands behind to contend with his friend.

Romlyn dabbed a cool damp cloth over Throm's temples.

“What's going on?” His voice was raspy and filled with phlegm.

“You passed out from too much skooma in our bathroom.” Romlyn stated flatly. He felt sympathy but much more anger, given the circumstance.

“What were you even doing, Throm? You nearly died,” Vendras's tone was oddly patronizing.

“Oh gods!” he sat up quickly, which was a bad idea. He nearly vomited. After collecting himself, he spoke again. “The girl...Indira...is she all right?!”

“What do you care?” Teldryn hissed as he appeared in the doorway of the room, bottle of flin in his hand and holding the door frame to stay balanced. He was already intoxicated. “You were too busy worrying about your addiction to think of her!”

“Teldryn, come on.” Vendras removed the bottle from his hand. “You've had too much to drink. Go lie down and calm yourself.”

He was tired of sweating so he yanked his helmet off his head and whipped it across the room. It bounced against the wall with a peculiar non-metal clack, the glass in the goggles shattered. “No! That...that fucking knife-eared _n'wah_! He's supposed to be my _friend_!”

The other elves were shocked that he'd done such a thing. They'd never seen him without it. But it mattered not. He was engraged, drunk, and he needed to simmer down.

“Enough. Come on.” Vendras corralled him to another of the many guest beds in the manor.

That left Romlyn alone with Throm. “Please...Romlyn...what of Indira? I need to know.”

“She's upset,” the dark elf responded with bitterness. “Teldryn took her home, but now she's a mess worrying about you.”

“I...”

“There's nothing more you can say. We're all pissed at you. I emptied the bottles that I found in your pockets by the way, and believe me I was _very_ thorough in my search to find them all. Drink some water and come down.”

Romlyn walked away to help Vendras handle Teldryn. Tears welled in the corners of Throm's eyes. “Fuck...”

His body heated at the thought of Romlyn's hands all over his body. _Thorough_. He hoped they wouldn't stay angry long. He'd never felt this much guilt in his life. Even if they did stay mad, he deserved it. Even though Romlyn barked at him...if he didn't care he would have let him die. Why? Why did these Dunmer care so much about him, after everything he put them through?


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for another episode of "Men Who Struggle to Understand and Express Feelings."
> 
> I absolutely LOVED writing this chapter. And I suppose I'm simping for Romlyn again. 🤷🏻
> 
> After all that heavy shit, we needed something to take the edge off.
> 
> Also: EVERYONE IS HORNY AGAIN. SEND HELP. ❄🚿

In the blackness of the night, Throm felt the warmth of rough hands snaking downward over his torso, tracing his every curve, wet lips pressed against his, gnashing against him with the fury of a god, eager tongue slinking betwixt. This decadent being on top of him rocked his hips into him with a steady rhythm, his grunts directly in his ear, yet phantasmal and distant.  
  
He felt everything, every last disgraceful pleasure resounding within his corporeal body. The being leaned his body back, not once ceasing his motions. His face was blurred, his voice an unfamiliar mixture of familiar sounds that Throm strived to remember.  
  
The being thrust faster and groaned. He was close.  
  
Throm's eyes flung open in the night. A dream? To top it off, he was rock hard beneath the blanket.  
  
A moan had resounded from a room just down the the hall. He recognized the voice at once as Romlyn's. He blushed with embarrassment, and his groin tingled as he heard every last noise of ecstasy from beyond the wide gap in his own door, and a vulgar phrase spoken in Dunmeris, which Throm himself was well versed in. His ears burned hot with humiliation...and titillation.  
  
He must have heard Vendras and Romlyn having sex in his sleep which brought him to his carnal visions, but he knew the one in his dream. At least he thought he did. That sunkissed tan flesh and those calloused working hands scratching against his bare chest... the stretching and burning sensation just below his perineum. It seemed far too real. Perhaps it had been once. How could he feel something if he hasn't experienced it? The very concept was insane. Improbable.  
  
A figure shuffled lazily by Throm's door, bare feet pitterpattering against the stone, and naturally Throm peeked, mostly out of curiosity, but slight paranoia of the possibility of a stranger. It was Romlyn, wearing naught but his light ashen skin, on his merry way to relieve himself in the middle of the night after that much needed session with his husband, still drunk with orgasmic bliss.  
  
Throm's entire body grew warm in a mixture of confusing emotions, and he realized that his erection still hadn't subsided. Romlyn was... _beautiful_. The way his pale hair, now ruffled and messy, somewhat sweaty, draped over his muscular shoulders. He was quite built for how small and lean he was, every muscle defined from years of strenuous lifting, his hips narrowed drastically compared to his broad chest and shoulders, abdomen rippled, white fluff trailing from his moderately hairy chest to down below where it counted most where the outline of his jewels showed in the dimly lit house.  
  
Throm hadn't realized he was biting his lip until he tasted a drop of blood. He flipped to his side to hide his erection and laid as still as he could while he awaited Romlyn's return journey to his bedroom.  
  
The little Dunmer tiptoed on by and Throm didn't move a single hair until he heard their door clasp.  
  
"Ah fuck," he gasped, just noticing he was also holding his breath. It wasn't going to go away anytime soon. Romlyn's image was burned into his mind and no matter what he did, he couldn't shake that picture. Even the fantasy of his two favorite whores had been cast far to the back of his mind. The burning of lust in his lower back and abdomen was unbearable. He threw his long legs out of bed and snuck to the bathroom to grab a towel. He closed his own door most of the way. It had been left open to check his status. He shut it just enough so he could chock its movement up to a draft should he need to make an excuse.  
  
Throm flopped onto his back and unfastened the ties of his pants in a hurry, penis springing forth. Even the cool draft against the sensitive skin of his shaft made him shudder. He took his gargantuan self into his equally gargantuan fingers and pulled upward lightly, squeezing the head which was already dripping with precum. He envisioned those red eyes like embers in the darkness just beneath him, begging for him. Since he'd never heard Romlyn call out his name in lust, Throm got creative as he remembered the times the Dunmer had spoken his name aloud, imagining him whispering it in his ear, pleading to be fucked. He imagined his nose planted into his aromatic hair, indulging in the scent he smelled so strongly in the bathroom, and his cock buried to the hilt within him.  
  
"Oh fuck yes," he uttered quietly to himself, straining and gritting his teeth with his vigorous actions, the visceral tension building within. Throm tugged away, faster and faster. It took barely a minute before he lunged aggressively forward without warning, spilling his hot load over his hand and on the underside of the towel. "Gods, sweet fucking Auri-El..." he struggled hard not to make a loud sound as he milked the remainder of his orgasm.  
  
The chagrin and antipathy held Throm in subjugation when his mind cleared itself of filthy thoughts. His hands and pubic hair were sticky and he abhorred himself.  
  
"What the fuck is _wrong_ with me?!" He viciously groomed himself and tucked himself back into his pants, tossing the abused towel into the corner. And as much as he loathed the thing he had just done and the thoughts he'd just had...Romlyn proceeded to torment his mind.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Throm awakened at some point in the morning. His body didn't want anymore sleep, so he put on his shirt and trudged upstairs to the kitchen, nearly forgetting he was in the Manor and not the Netch. Throm assumed the husbands were still blissfully asleep, as he didn't see them anywhere, nor their strange little pet.  
  
Teldryn was awake as well, staring mindlessly into a cup of tea he'd brewed for himself, free of his helmet which still laid in pieces on the floor downstairs. He hurled a ferocious look at Throm briefly, with his burning garnet eyes, but continued to admire the swirling liquid in his cup. He wasn't drunk anymore, to say the least.  
  
Throm poured himself some tea as well. He sweetened it with honey and took a sip before Teldryn decided he had just enough of uncomfortable silence.  
  
"Don't ever fucking do that to me again," he hissed quietly through his teeth.  
  
Throm gripped the teacup in both hands relishing in the comforting way it burned. "Tel, I can't apologize enough. I'll never be able to."  
  
Teldryn's expression was full of malice."I don't know what I'd have done if Vendras didn't get that door open in time. Don't, Throm. Don't fucking kill yourself. No one should die like that. Please..."  
  
What was this? A side of Teldryn previously unseen?  
  
And Throm still couldn't get over how carelessly he sat before him, his face displayed to the world, and yet it was still a great honor to finally see him as a person, not a suit of armor. "You let them see you, too."  
  
Teldryn sighed like he had a boulder dropped onto his chest. "I don't care anymore. I just want Indira safe."  
  
"What are we going to do?" Throm asked, hoping the man with the best plans had one.  
  
"I don't even know."  
  
The way his best friend sounded like he was just giving up hurt Throm in a way he didn't understand.  
  
"I'm sorry I got angry with you," Teldryn changed the subject back again.  
  
Throm sipped his tea, most of the heat had seeped into his skin. "Don't be. I rely on you to to make me feel bad sometimes, otherwise I'll never learn anything."  
  
He chortled. "I suppose you're right." He finished off the rest of his own tea. "You've changed a lot these past couple months. I like this person you're becoming much better." He cleared his throat. "It's good for you to be praised by people who care about you too."  
  
Such a strange thing, these two mer, friends of over fifteen years, finally opening up to one another. It was just too much to take in at once, so Teldryn changed the subject yet again.  
  
"Boy, those two were loud last night. I've never been woken out of a blackout before. And Sourpuss..." he whistled approvingly. "Daaaamn. Good for him."  
  
Throm choked on his tea. "You saw him naked too?"  
  
"Nah. I knew he was up to take a piss. I was just curious what you'd say."  
  
Throm reddened everywhere and Teldryn chuckled deep from within his belly. He needed a good laugh after the night he had. Too observant for his own damn good, that Teldryn.

“You're also not as quiet as you think you are...even when you're actively trying.”

Throm shrunk into himself. This damn echoing ant tunnel of a house!

Romlyn rounded the corner to the kitchen. He hadn't bothered to brush his hair and had it tied up in a loose topknot. He was wearing nothing but a comfortable looking pair of pants, loose fitting in most areas...except where it counted. Throm choked on his tea again, trying desperately not to look—but he wanted to. Oh how he wanted to.

“You two are on speaking terms? That's good.” It was all the dark elf said before he rummaged around the food barrels for something to cook for breakfast. Stumps soon followed behind. He got excited for Throm again and begged for his attention before remembering he was hungry and proceeded to harrass his dad. “Yes! You'll get yours too, you pig!”

Teldryn had his elbow propped onto the table, resting his chin against his palm, which squished his face in a comical way. He knew exactly what Throm was looking at, and he had to tease him. While Romlyn was disctracted, he exaggeratedly fluttered his eyelashes at Throm, which made him glare. “Stop it,” he mouthed.

His gestures became increasingly more inappropriate, and now he was pistoning his arm and popping his tongue into the hollow of his cheek crudely.

Throm's eyes widened, his nostrils flared, and his golden cheeks flushed a flaming peach, lividly mouthing how much he was going to kill him later.

“You're right. I really shouldn't encourage this.”

“Hmm?” Romlyn was completely oblivious to what was going on in the background.  
  
“Nothing, Sourpuss. Go back to your happy housemaid work.”

“Ex _cuse_ me?”

The Altmer and the Dunmer at the table both laughed.

Romlyn breathed in annoyance. “I'm glad you kissed and made up, but if you want any breakfast, you'd better knock it off.”

Vendras at last made his entrance. Unlike Romlyn, he was dressed more modestly, and his fiery auburn hair was tied back, sleek and smooth as always. He yanked his husband away from the stove for a moment by his hips and planted a long and sensual kiss upon him without any regard of who was watching. He whispered ever so gently in his ear so that only he could hear. “Last night was fun.” Romlyn giggled in response.

Teldryn knew by their mannerisms what their secret conversation entailed, and he made the crude gesture again behind their backs. Throm barely resisted shoving a fork in his friend's eye.

“Oh, I'm sorry Throm.” Vendras apologized, nearly forgetting he didn't like to see men kissing.

He waved his hand at him dismissively. “As long as you're renting here, it's your home, you do as you please.” He hoped it didn't give too much about himself away. And he really hoped his own body language didn't give too much away as he eye-fucked another man's husband, feeling utterly despicable about it for a slew of reasons.

“How do you feel?” Vendras took up one of the chairs. Stumps greeted him also, as if the last five minutes of not seeing him was an eternity. Vendras's expression showed genuine concern, his head cocked to the side ever so slightly, emitting an unworldly volume of kindness as he mindlessly patted the scaly head of the guar.

The Altmer cleared his throat as he caught the full profile of Romlyn reaching up into a cupboard in his peripheral vision. “I feel...fine. Thanks to you both, anyway.”

“Ahem!”

“Yes...and you Teldryn.”

The dark elf across form him responded with an abrupt and shortlived smile.

A part of him wished they'd have let him die in the night. It was difficult to look Vendras in the eye after everything that transpired. Even though he indulged in substances in his residence, he still felt the worst for fantasizing about his husband.

There was nothing more to discuss on that subject. Vendras figured he learned his lesson with that ordeal, then turned to Teldryn, happy to finally put a face to the man behind the mask. He was handsome, traditionally Dunmer in all the ways, but there was a sageliness to him, and Vendras couldn't quite decide how old he thought he was.

“See something you like, Red?”

Romlyn turned around to look at both of them.

Vendras didn't know what to say. “Um...just not used to seeing you like this.”

“He's ancient, if that's what you're wondering,” Throm chimed in. That would get him going.

His gasp was dramatic. “I am _not_!”

“Damn near as old as Master Neloth, probably.”

“Throm!”

Throm was conscious to keep his lips pursed as he smiled, but it proved difficult.

“Food's done. Come and fix your own plates,” Romlyn said to the crew.

“Eat your breakfast, old man. You need to keep those elderly bones and joints in tip top condition.”

Teldryn furrowed his already grouchy dark elf brows at him. “I'll get you back again later, I swear it.” he whispered just behind his ear.

Despite everything, the four of them (and Stumps) having breakfast together was a rather humbling experience. Was this what friendship felt like? For the first time in a long time, Throm felt good. Alas, amid the laughter of truly good company, he couldn't forget that Teldryn was aching inside for that poor girl. So was he. Reality set in hard when he looked at Teldryn, who had abandoned all joy. He'd never admit he was just as difficult as Throm was, and yet he always managed to be Throm's guiding light. He could joke and make sarcastic remarks all he liked, but when things were serious, he was stone cold. Throm placed his heavy hand on his shoulder, the laughing spouses silenced and the baby guar fidgeted in Romlyn's lap. “Don't worry, my friend. We're going to help her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fucking Romlyn in his universe's version of GREY SWEATPANTS! MOTHER OF FUCK! How very fucking DARE he! 😍


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Throm is so fucked up and I love it. Enjoy a short chapter, and please don't be too shy to discuss or give feedback. I'd appreciate it very much!

Teldryn wrapped his cowl around his face. Before leaving the residence of his two most favorite outlanders, he gathered the broken shambles of his infamous chitin helm.  
  
He handed the shattered armor piece to Glover Mallory without so much as a word, who stared blankly at him like he was a complete stranger.  
  
"It's Teldryn, you _s'wit!_ "  
  
"Oh!" The Breton's laugh was low and deep. "Didn't recognize you without it."  
  
"Enough jests. Can you repair it?"  
  
The blacksmith tossed it between his hands. The shell was the same consistency of the mudcrab he ate for dinner the night before.  
  
"You know I like working with iron and steel, but you damn Dunmer with your chitin and bonemold. It's hard to work with."  
  
"Whine whine whine! Can you fix it or not?"  
  
"Don't get your panties in a twist. I'll fix it. I'll have to find someone who works with glass for the goggles, but I'll manage. Been fixing enough pieces for the Redoran Guard to have a handle on it."  
  
Teldryn thanked him and headed down the road to the Andrelo household. It was hard to look at those snooty pricks knowing what he now knew, but he'd maintain his usual facade for as long as he could. He knocked on Indira's bedroom door, which promptly flung open like she'd been waiting directly in front of it the entire time.  
  
"Teldryn! Wait... you're not wearing your..."  
  
He pulled the red cowl down to expose his mouth. "I threw it in a fit of rage last night and broke it."  
  
"I couldn't sleep a wink, I was so worried about Throm! I wished you would have let me know. I assumed no news was good news, but that didn't stop my anxiety."  
  
"He's fine," he told her. "Red and Sourpuss took fantastic care of him. Took good care of me, too, I suppose. I was so angry at him I started drinking." He sighed. "But the ol' bastard is alive and well."  
  
"I'm so thankful.” She didn't care for Throm's overall attitude, but she'd have never wished him harm or death. After all, he had been a decent friend to her despite everything, even if it seemed like he didn't care. Some sort of kindness dwelled deep inside Throm's toxic exterior.  
  
"How are you doing with...everything else?" Teldryn's voice was low and calm, somewhat forlorn.  
  
Indira invited him into her bedroom and closed the door. "Well, I've been packing my things. My..." she hesitated for a second. "... _parents_ haven't thought anything of it, all things considered."  
  
"Azura's tits, Indira, you're not considering running away, are you?"  
  
Her eyes appeared swollen from crying all night. "Is there any other option?"  
  
Teldryn hadn't the chance to consider what they should do, but something deep within himself said that it wasn't going to be easy. "Where are you going to run to? We're stranded on the island until further notice."  
  
"We don't exactly have time on our side either," Indira stated. "I leave next week. My 'bethrothed' is sailing in on his own private boat to pick up me and my family."  
  
Indira suggested that they hide somewhere on the island in the meantime and steal the boat, but neither of then knew the first thing about traveling by sea. They would require the skill of mariners to reach their destination safely.  
  
"I'm still having trouble with all of this." She sat on the edge of her bed with hopelessness in her heart. "I want to make wise decisions, but I can't think straight."  
  
Teldryn took a place beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. "I can't even believe you trust me."  
  
"You've given me every reason in Tamriel _to_ trust, you, Teldryn. You might keep your secrets, sure, but you've never once lied to me. The people who are _supposed_ to look out for me did. You're my family, Tel. You and Throm. Not them."  
  
Teldryn didn't know what to do with her statements, he merely looked at her.  
  
Indira scoffed. "This is the part where I'd say blood doesn't mean fuck-all, but they're not my blood either. Who in Oblivion knows who my real parents are and my—father—has been in his study all the time now. We'll never be able to get into that safe again to look at my adoption form."  
  
"And I don't want to endanger Sourpuss again. He did me a huge solid as it is doing what he did for me. I really owe him one."  
  
"Tel?"  
  
"What is it, my dear?"  
  
"Even before all this...I was going to run away...without you. I hate it here. These people are cruel. I'd have done it already if you weren't around, but I..."  
  
He took her hand and brushed his thumb over her soft skin, which soothed both of them. "You still have feelings for me?"  
  
Indira cocked her head to the side. "Of course I do. They're not just going to go away overnight. But it's not that, Tel. It's kinda dumb...but I think you know why being together would be weird, right?"  
  
Teldryn nodded. "You're more like a daughter to me. It's been...uncomfortable, to say the least. "  
  
She kind of laughed. "I share your sentiment. You're pretty much a dad to me. More of a parent than those two have ever been. My growth has been...stunted. You know? Since meeting you I've flourished. Really fucking _flourished_."  
  
Teldryn smiled. There she was. "Don't you ever forget how proud I am of you, Indira."  
  
"I want the life I deserve, not a life of servitude. I want all the say in my own existence. Will you help me? I can't do this without you."  
  
"I'll help you to the bitter end," he replied. "You sure this is what you wanna do?"  
  
"More than _anything_. I've calculated the risks."  
  
Teldryn chortled. "Then I assume you'll be thrilled to hear that 'risk taker' is my most valuable quality."  
  
Teldryn always did know how to make her laugh. She entwined her little arms around him and planted a firm kiss onto his sharp cheekbone. "Don't you dare get yourself killed because of me," her hot breath teased his flesh.  
  
"Darling, they'll have to send the whole Redoran army and then some just to tame me."  
  
  
***  
  
  
"I'm going to take a bath." Vendras planted a long and loving kiss upon his husband's lips and departed, leaving Romlyn and Throm alone at the dining table.  
  
Throm couldn't look directly at him. His bloody crimson gaze was so sharp he feared he could read his mind.  
  
"You seem all kinds of different lately," he stated bluntly.  
  
Shit. He could read minds. Or Throm was an open book more than he cared to admit, to say the very least. Brooding and menacing was his schtick, after all. Was that quality so thinly veiled?  
  
"You haven't said one off thing to me or Ven since you saved us from that stupid Ash Spawn."  
  
"You want I should make up for lost insults... _man lover?_ " Gods. It felt disgusting to even allow it to roll off his tongue with that amount of ease. Why did he hate that couple so much, _really_? He knew that figure from his dream with utmost certainty. Every last sensation felt familiar and natural...he just didn't know who he was, though he was definitely no mere figment of his imagination.  
  
Instead of expressing disdain this time, Romlyn laughed. Throm thought it sounded adorable. He could tell by the lines in his face that this little mer experienced much joy in his life. Resentment plagued Throm. How dare he be so fucking happy and in love...  
  
"I don't know what you Altmer have up your ass, but it's the wrong thing."  
  
Throm hoped he couldn't seem him blushing. He felt uneasy, and there was only one cure for that problem but he tried his damndest to ignore it. He _wanted_ to stay and chat with Romlyn. What idiot wouldn't enjoy the company of someone so witty, so brash, so... _breathtaking_?  
  
Romlyn still hadn't bothered to dress with decency for the day as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and his feet propped on the table. He treated Severin Manor as his home away from home, after all he'd been there long enough to call it his own. It felt like he was there for half a century. The only thing left to do was relax and hope Gjalund could obtain supplies to fix his ship or that another one would sail in to gather all the stranded outlanders. The delay took so long it couldn't have been anything other than fate. "I'm glad you didn't die last night," he said after a bout of silence. "You know, even if you are a giant golden prick."  
  
Throm wanted so badly to laugh, but he maintained his outward persona and quipped back. "I'm glad the Ash Spawn didn't obliterate you, you little dust mite."  
  
Romlyn paused, then snorted out a laugh. "That's pretty good." His smirk bedazzled Throm. Had he lacked self control, he'd have taken him right there. Why? Why was he so gods damned alluring?  
  
Throm's pulse echoed so loudly in his own ears he feared Romlyn would hear it too. He didn't know if he loved or hated it but he knew he couldn't stay. Skooma would get him back on track. He courteously cleaned up the dirty dishes that were still in front of him from breakfast and put them in the wash tub. Romlyn happened to be an exquisite cook as well, which didn't help matters. "I should be going. Thank you for you and your husband's hospitality, Sourpuss."  
  
He no longer greeted the nickname Teldryn coined for him with scorn. In fact, it started to grow on him. "Hey."  
  
Throm's hand was already on the door handle. He turned around before he made his departure.  
  
"Take it easy on yourself Golden Boy. Ya, hear?"  
  
He could have sworn his knees fell out from beneath him, but he remained very still, his veins circulating with adrenaline, testosterone, and a strong hankering for skooma. Why did this sound so vaguely familiar to him? Like déjà vu. He had to go immediately. His only response to him was an awkward nod before he slipped out the door.  
  
Summer was closing in fast, the brilliant sun high over Solstheim baking the silt, which whirled up into small dust devils in the breeze. An ash storm seemed likely for the day as the wind picked up. Throm wrapped his mouth and nose with scarf and donned goggles, an attire imperative to the Morrowind regions closest to the belching volcano. Most others out and about had already been prepared for the oncoming weather. Years of experience will do that.  
  
He hurried at once to the alchemist Milore once he changed his sweaty clothes from the previous night in his room at the Netch. Substance craving superceded everything. Just have to be more careful this time, he thought.  
  
The Dunmer woman was positively mortified to see him, as well as wrought with guilt, but addiction was addiction, she knew this well.  
  
"Fuck, Throm!" she hissed, peeking around suspiciously for any signs of Teldryn, who must have been much firmer with her last night than the old Dunmer let on.  
  
"I need more," the Altmer said quietly, his orange eyes searing her through the lenses of his protective dust goggles. "I...don't have any money left."  
  
Milore fiddled with her hood nervously, but she didn't respond, not with words or actions.  
  
"Come on, Milore! If I wait any fucking longer I'm fucked. I'll do whatever you want! I'll lick the ash off the bottom of your boots! Just give it to me...or you'll leave me no choice but to take it from you and I don't want to do that..."  
  
Throm had never threatened her like this before, and she didn't appreciate the attitude. "Don't you dare come out here and threaten me at my home," she responded irately. "As if I don't know what you're going through. You can fuck right off with that."  
  
Mostly, she didn't want to be harrassed by Teldryn again in her own home. Throm was nearly three times the Dunmer's size, and Teldryn frightened her far more. She knew how pathetically desperate he was from her own grim experience with the drug, but her stocks became increasingly low since the ships were still down. Milore had to have enough for herself to last out there too, hanging on closely to the final bottles of her stash like a miser.  
  
Milore had always been so kind and understanding. Is this what dependency really did to people? Transform them into ugly monsters in the face of adversity?  
  
"I'll do whatever you want," he peeped desperately. "Anything..."  
  
Milore's red eyes peered around again making sure no one was watching or listening.  
  
"Fuck me," she said at once.  
  
Throm's heart paused for a beat. He couldn't believe his ears. "What?"  
  
"You heard me!" She tried to sound demanding, but the guilt wavered in the back of her throat all the same. "Garyn is up north selling produce to the Skaal. It'll be hours before his return. The old codger hasn't pleased me in a long time."  
  
The ever growing thirst for that sweet substance left Throm's tongue dry and chalky against the roof of his mouth. But he couldn't believe Milore. Of all people...  
  
"Surely you aren't serious?"  
  
"You said anything. These are my terms." Milore was truly desperate, but it seemed like her issues delved far deeper than just her own skooma addiction.  
  
As he descended further down into disconsolateness, it appeared he was running out of options.  
  
She held the door of her home open, waiting. After one last glance around the market square, he ducked inside shamefully.  
  
She removed the lower half of her garb and bent over the kitchen table exposing all her bits to him. "I can't look you in the eye while we do this. Make me come, and you can have your fix."  
  
Throm secretly thanked the gods he never left a woman displeased, but never a needy married one. It repulsed him and he wondered if he'd even be able to get hard. He regularly purchased snacks off that man, for Aedra's sake, how could he defile his wife in his home?  
  
The disheveled thoughts segued into thinking about Romlyn. Fuck, that mer was stunning. His imagination already defiled someone else's marriage in a way, what was one more to add to the list?  
  
"Milore...how can we even do this if neither of us are aroused?"  
  
The dark elf woman rolled her glowing red eyes. "Pardon me. Where are my manners?"  
  
Her attitude certainly didn't get him in any kind of mood other than discomfort and irritability. She unfastened his pants like it was a chore and unenthusiastically grabbed hold of his currently limp dick and maneuvered in whatever way she could in its difficult flaccid state to force some life into it. Everything about this felt wrong, but the outcome relied heavily on this moment.  
  
Milore kept her head down. Throm's height made it simple not to make eye contact. Blood soon rushed to his extremities, but he wasn't having any fun, it was merely natural response to stimulus. At least his girls made an effort to make the act enjoyable, though it was their duty to please, of course. He tried to envision them double teaming him to stir his arousal instead, but the only thought that came to mind was Romlyn. In this new impromptu fantasy, the elf pressed his gray flesh against him, his rough working hands gripped like a vice around his shaft. Yes...that helped immensely. It even made Milore's soulless handjob more palatable.  
  
"By Azura you're big," he heard the woman gasp with genuine astonishment now that he was fully erect.  
  
She resumed her stance over the dining room table, legs spread slightly and he attempted entry, but there wasn't anywhere near enough of her natural fluids to ease the way.  
  
"Let's get this over with," she spat venomously.  
  
Throm recognized her underlying guilt but it didn't make the situation any simpler. "You're dryer than Elsweyr sand," he retorted. "Forgive me for not wanting to grate myself against you."  
  
"Shit...sorry just...do whatever!"  
  
He sighed in frustration and reached his long arm around her front and finagled with her clit. Atleast it was a start. She buckled from his gentle touch almost immediately, surprised by the sensation. "Oh? Oh wow...I've never..."  
  
Throm was almost appalled by her reaction. Was Garyn really so inept he didn't know his way around his own wife?  
  
"Ffffuck...Throm don't stop."  
  
Thank the Aedra and the Daedra, it was going to be easier that he thought. He tested her with the longest finger of his other hand, which made her squirm.  
  
"Put it in deeper," she gasped.  
  
He obeyed, curling the tip like he was beckoning someone. He could feel her vaginal walls shifting with the pleasurable contact he made.  
  
Despite her own terms and conditions, she turned around and pulled her body into a sitting position on the tabletop and spread her legs.  
  
"Go down on me," she said. "Garyn won't do it. He thinks it's gross."  
  
Throm actually felt bad. What kind of man was he? His growing pity for her changed his opinion of this encounter, and he did as she requested. He very much took pride in eating out a woman, as his girls knew it well. He was the only one who ever made any effort to please them in return. What was the point if only one was having any fun? It turned him on so much more when his partner wasn't a dead fuck.  
  
He knelt before her, and thanks to his lengthy legs his face was perfectly level with her groin. He slithered his tongue over her lips, tasting her nectar, and she quivered. "Oh, Mephala, yes..."  
  
Throm inserted two fingers inside and continued to tease her clit lightly with the tip of his tongue. If a good time was what she desired, a good time is what he would give her. Knowing what he knew now, the outcome was worth it either way.  
  
Even though she wasn't one of his lovely and obedient little prostitutes, he still wanted her to berate him. "Tell me I'm scum," he rumbled, his hot breath grazed over her sensitive parts. "Tell me you hate me."  
  
Milore was so into it now she didn't care about anything, and did as he requested. "I fucking hate you Throm."  
  
It sent a jolt through his loins and he masturbated as he licked her, slipping his tongue as far between her lips as he could, an uncontrollable moan escaped her from the ecstasy. She loosed the buttons on her shirt to bare her breasts.  
  
Throm sucked on her her clit more forcefully, making her yelp from the sensation. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and rose up slowly over her to give her breasts some attention, and this time he slipped three fingers snugly inside her while he circled his thumb around her clit.  
  
"Finger me hard," she demanded, and he obeyed. "By the Daedra, Throm!"  
  
His hand moved in and out slow and rough. He didn't want her to come yet.  
  
Milore pulled his head away from her chest. To his surprise, she kissed him. It was strange, since the prostitutes strictly forbade kissing, as it was much too personal and often caused conflicting emotion between them and their clients. Now he understood why they always denied him, but he didn't want to marry them. He only longed for affection and the caring touch of another person, and no one would answer his pleas to satisfy him.  
  
"Fuck me," Milore uttered with a starved rasp.  
  
Wasting no more time, he pushed himself between her now sleek lips, and damn was she tight. He always had that issue regardless, but he feared he might not be able to fit.  
  
"Just do it. I want it to hurt," she moaned into his ear. "Violate me like the adulterous bitch I am."  
  
A lump formed in his throat at that statement and he swallowed hard, but he performed as was required of him and he shoved himself in with great force, she cried out when he unavoidably struck her cervix, but she commanded him to keep going.  
  
Garyn would never again have a fighting chance to please his wife after this, he thought.  
  
Overall, Throm hated what he was doing and he hated himself. His erection dwindled. _No. Come on. I need to get her off._ He bit his lip, wrenched his eyes closed. He imagined himself with a fist full of white hair, buried balls deep in Romlyn's backside. He tuned Milore out completely so he could focus. Her ecstatic screams faded out, and in his mind he could only hear Romlyn's not-so-subtle rapturous outcries.  
  
"Yes, that's it," he clenched his jaw, his surroundings became a blur, and in just a few overenthusiastic pumps he reached a satisfying ejaculaction, nearly losing his balance as he came back to reality after he'd nearly forgotten he was with Milore.  
  
The feeling of his load inside her was just what she needed to get off as she arched her hips against him to strive for it. She screamed and dug her nails into his sides. The contractions of her orgasm clenched his overstimulated organ with the might of a slaughterfish's jaws, causing him to convulse.  
  
Her voice was whimsical. "Oh my fucking gods, Throm."  
  
With insurmountable shame, he pulled out of her and stuffed himself back into his trousers without even hassling to clean up. "I want my stuff," he demanded miserably.  
  
"Right," Milore sighed. "What's fair is fair. I'm sorry...I shouldn't have—"  
  
"Just forget this even happened," he said coldly. He gave her a few courteous moments to wipe off the cum and put her clothes back on. Lack of the substance was really starting to bother him after all that exertion.  
  
She gave him a few bottles and he uncorked one straight away to sate his appetite. He wallowed in the effects for a time before speaking again. Milore didn't appear too happy now that the emotion had cleared.  
  
Throm still felt terrible, though. "I'm sorry your husband can't please you. But this right here," he waved his finger from himself to her. "It won't happen again."  
  
Milore agreed it was an awful idea. "I understand."  
  
The Altmer let out a despondent sigh. "We're both so fucked up...curse this foul liquid." She looked like she wanted to cry, and he had no desire to stick around. Those were his final words.  
  
As Throm exited Milore's home, Teldryn caught sight of him. Anger boiled within him.  
  
"Tel, what's wrong?" Indira asked.  
  
"Look where Throm just came from. Milore's his dealer." He fantasized about walking up to him and punching him right in the throat, but he refrained. There were more important matters at hand. The only person who could help Throm now was Throm himself.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a long chapter containing some precious moments and some heavy stuff.
> 
> But that Throm and Teldryn friendship dynamic tho. 💜

“What the—eew!” Romlyn awoke with a start as a sticky, stringy ash yam struck his face. It was difficult to breathe with the weight of the ever-growing guar crushing his diaphragm. Vendras let out a grumpy groan and yanked the blanket over his shoulders as he rolled over.

“Stumps, it's too early to play, buddy” Romlyn whined, wiping the saliva from his forehead with the back of his arm. He forced himself up lazily and lifted Stumps with great strain to set him on the floor and he tossed the yucky ash yam out the door and into the hall, which Stumps scampered to with great excitement thinking they were playing a game of fetch. Romlyn stretched and headed upstairs to the front door to peek out of the windowless abode. The sky was still a dull blue hue. He took the guarling outside to do his business, and then went back in to do his own business and wash his face and hands of nasty guar stench before returning to bed. The guar continued to harrass him as he followed him back into the bedroom. “Stumps, come on. Let us sleep for a bit longer, please. You have food in your dish.” He pushed him out with his foot and closed the door behind him, ignoring the shortlived episode of scratching and sad reptile noises.

Romlyn crawled back under the covers, settled himself against Vendras and kissed the back of his neck. Vendras chuckled from the tickling and the obvious erection forming against his rear. “I thought you wanted more sleep?” His voice was muffled against the pillow.

“I do,” Romlyn said. “But I want you more.”

“Well, _I_ want sleep.” There was a hint of attitude in his tone from the grogginess.

Romlyn was shocked and disappointed to be denied by his husband. “Aw, come on, _yi daelha_.” He slithered his hand over the curve of Vendras's thigh and stroked his nethers delicately, which Vendras promptly removed. “Not this time, sweetheart. I'm not feeling well. I'm sorry.”

Though disheartened, he took it upon himself to take care of his problem. Vendras remained very still and quiet in the position he was lying in, slightly annoyed by the shaking bed, but he knew it would only take a minute for Romlyn to finish, so he ignored it.

“That was a wasted effort ,” Romlyn grumbled at his brief and unfulfilling orgasm, cleaned up and went straight back to cuddling Vendras. He kissed the back of his head and they both fell back into slumber for the remainder of the morning.

Vendras woke later on, his head still pounding, but he couldn't find it in himself to sleep any longer, so he went to the kitchen to brew some tea hoping it would help. Stumps tried to bother him, but he shooed him off with a firm “No!” He just wasn't in the mood. Homesickness was really starting to eat away at him. He couldn't fathom what was taking Torbjorn so long to send another ship to gather his crew, himself and Romlyn included. Solstheim wasn't terribly far from Windhelm's port. On top of that, he had an Altmer nearly die in the Dragonborn's vacation home, a mysterious elder Dunmer with trust issues, and a possible descendant of the Nerevarine to deal with. Part of him wished they'd have gone home the minute Romlyn sensed something was off. Vendras marvelled over how much domestic life had tamed him. “Where did your sense of adventure go, Vendras?” he asked the fire crackling beneath the cooking range.

Cowering, Stumps crawled back to him. “I'm sorry I yelled at you, my friend. You didn't deserve that.” He patted his thigh invitingly and his pet's enthusiasm returned. It was still strange stroking that scaly, meaty head, but he'd get over it, though he preferred a more furry variety of animal beneath his fingertips. It wouldn't be long before Stumps would become too large to stay the house and he wondered how he would handle the transition. Romlyn spoiled the thing rotten. On the upside, they'd have a good mount if they needed to travel once he was full grown. Vendras regretted the investment at first, but he supposed it didn't matter since they were still stranded. The creature grew on him to say the least.

“Oh Stumps, I can't wait to take our peculiar little family back to Skyrim,” Vendras said. He wagged his fat, dumpy tail. Of course he didn't understand what Vendras was saying, he was merely happy for the positive inflections in his tone.

Romlyn shuffled in a bit later, his hair a careless mess. “You feeling any better?” He helped himself to the tea kettle.

“Not really,” Vendras replied with a hint of lament, head resting on his hand. Romlyn massaged his shoulders for a few minutes before taking a seat beside him. “I wanna go home.”

“I was just sharing that same sentiment with Stumps,” he said. The guar wagged his tail at the sound of his name.

Romlyn took a sip of his tea. “We got more than what we bargained for, that's for sure. Ven?”

“What is it, handsome?”

“Are you all right? I mean in general.”

Vendras thought for a moment. In all honesty, he wasn't sure. “I dunno.”

“I don't know what I'm worried about,” Romlyn stirred a spoon around in his cup. “It's just stress, is all. It's a fucked up situation.”

“Yes it very much is,” he agreed.

The smaller of the husbands finished his tea and after placing his cup in the wash tub, wrapped his arms around Vendras from behind tightly. “It's not so bad since we have each other.” After placing a long kiss on his temple in hopes that his positive energy would help his headache, he broke away somewhat reluctantly. “If you don't mind, Ven, I'm gonna get dressed and head into town for a bit, maybe do some thinking and clear my head. Give you a chance to be alone. I know you haven't had much time to yourself since we've been here. We haven't been apart for nary a second.”

Vendras smiled. “Of course. I would enjoy that.”

Romlyn got ready and gave his husband a goodbye kiss. “Come on, Stumps. Let's go for a walk.”

The sky was thick with ash again this day and he covered his face with a scarf and threw his hood up. It was quite nostalgic for him, but he wasn't sure that the remnants of Morrowind gave him good feelings anymore like it once had. Something made him long for Skyrim. He wished he could make up his mind sometimes. He headed to the dock to see if any ships sailed in, but to his dismay, the Northern Maiden still stuck out of the water cloven in twain with no sign of anything else on the horizon. “Fuck,” he sighed and wondered where they got such terrible luck. He took a seat on the edge and watched the water ripple, in the distance he could see a family of netches at play. It helped to calm him a bit. Stumps rummaged around in the silt behind him, yanking up a stray ash yam that had taken root there. Whatever strikes his fancy, Romlyn thought.

The pier was rather dead for noon, but he supposed it would be with lack of shipments arriving. The settlement of Raven Rock relied heavily on goods from Skyrim since no ships travelled to Morrowind anymore except on rare occasion. Romlyn zoned out for a bit until he heard Stumps become rambunctious, heavy footsteps clunked on the boards of the pier.

Throm towered over him donned in his full ebony armor. He must have been on duty at the Andrelos. “Hi.”

“Hello Throm,” Romlyn replied tonelessly.

The Altmer bent down to sit beside him, the guar spazzing out at his company. “Yes, hello to you too, Stumps.”

“He really likes you for some reason,” Romlyn cracked a smile. “I suppose I trust his judgement.”

Throm's cheeks turned peach. “Oh?” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly before attempting small talk. “No Vendras today?”

“Nah. He's not feeling so hot today so I'm giving him a break.” He took a moment to give Throm a once over. Once again, his pupils were tiny. It sent a surge of indescribable emotions through him, but he should have known he'd be back on the stuff again, even after he practically died. He'd been through a similar situation with his old friend and coworker Niluva, though he was partly to blame for feeding her addiction. At this point in his life, he was completely over making poor decisions. Life was much simpler that way. All in all, the bronze-gold elf looked like he was completely lost. Romlyn wondered what was going on in his head.

Throm couldn't contain his heartbeat in Romlyn's presence. He couldn't even fathom why he'd approached him in the first place but as soon as he noticed him at the pier, his feet carried him there out of his control. There was nothing to talk about. He wasn't even sure if they had anything in common and didn't know how to initiate a conversation. Yet he still wanted to be there with him. Romlyn's existence caused him a peculiar mixture of both anxiety and comfort.

“Ven's been behaving strangely,” Romlyn said suddenly and couldn't believe he had spoken it aloud, especially to Throm. “I can't really put my finger on it.”

Throm wasn't sure what to do with that information or why he'd said it to him at all, but he did his best to say what he thought might help. “Most likely stress. I can't imagine not being able to go home. Of course, I can't really relate, but I can empathize with you. It's very clear he loves you.” His own honest observation at the end seemed out of character even to himself.

Romlyn caught on as well. “That's weird for you to say that.”

“I don't know what's wrong with me,” he was almost defensive saying it. He couldn't let Romlyn know how he felt about him. He diverted the conversation back to Vendras. “Maybe you should get him a gift. What kinds of things does he like?”

Romlyn's head cocked in contemplation and he sucked on his teeth. “Ya know, that's not a bad idea. He's a conjuration scholar, mostly deals in...well, maybe I shouldn't say.”

“He's a necromancer?” Throm said with genuine astonishment.

Romlyn shuffled his weight on the boards, supposing it would have been obvious since he didn't want to say it out right.

“That kind of stuff doesn't bother me, don't worry. I'm just surprised he'd be into something like _that_.”

“It's nothing like how you'd imagine,” he said. “I can't really describe it. It's not about power or anything like that. He just wants to help people.”

“I'd never have thought of raising the dead for such a purpose,” said Throm.

“Me neither,” Romlyn replied. “It's complicated and I don't want to go into too much detail, but he really likes to study that kind of thing. It's his passion. It's just unfortunate that reanimated dead don't last long enough to allow him any time to figure out exactly what he wants, if you get my meaning.”

“I don't, if I may be honest. I've never been into magic at all.”

Romlyn hummed and stared out at the sea.

Something clicked in Throm's head. “I have an idea. Has he heard of Mannimarco?”

The Dunmer frowned in thought. “I can't say I've ever heard that name cross his lips since I've met him.”

“Really?” Throm tilted his head, his strawberry blond hair shifted. “Strange, I've never heard of a necromancer who doesn't know of Mannimarco. I have a book all about him in my room. I don't do much reading anyway, so he can have it.”

A little puff of air exited Romlyn's nostrils and he grinned. “That's really nice of you, Throm. I think he'd really like that. Thank you.”

Throm didn't know how to act. He'd never been spoken to so kindly before in his life. “Oh...well, you're welcome.” He hadn't realized Stumps was resting his head on his thighs the entire time and moved him away so he could stand. “Wait here. I'll be right back.”

Stumps followed along as well. He tried to shoo him back to Romlyn, but the guar wouldn't take no for an answer. He couldn't believe how anxious that little mer made him. He was glad to get away from him for a moment so he might be able to calm his nerves. Back in his room at the Retching Netch he took a breather on the edge of the bed before he searched his meager pile of belongings. It didn't help one iota. He was positively buzzing like he had an entire hive of furious bees inside him.“Why am I like this? Relax, you fucking idiot.” Stumps zipped around his legs happily. “Let's go, little one.” He took a deep breath, book in hand, and he returned to the dock where Romlyn waited patiently.

“Here.”

Romlyn accepted the book, observing the fine leather binding with his fingers, title etched and lined with real gold leaf. It was a very expensive edition of the biographical account, practically brand new. Throm was positively chuffed by the Dunmer's reaction as he sifted through the pages. “Oh wow! This is beautiful. He'll love it. What do I owe you for it?”

“What? No you take that. I don't need anything.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you so much.” He beamed at the Altmer standing above him.

Throm felt good inside as he lingered with that grin on his face for far too long. “I gotta get back to work. Let me know how he likes it later.”

Romlyn nodded and grabbed Stumps by the tail before he darted off. “No, you can't go with him this time, you silly thing.”

He headed straight back to the manor afterward, thrilled to present his gift. “Hey Ven?”

His husband's voice called from another room in the house, just loud enough to hear. “In the bath, darling.”

He found Vendras in the tub with a damp cloth over his eyes. “Still sick, huh?”

“Yeah,” he replied weakly and lifted the cloth to peek at him. “What did you need, my love?”

“I have something for you, but it can wait. Get your rest.” He pecked him on the lips. “I love you.”

Vendras remained until the water got cold before he dressed to meet his spouse in the parlor. Romlyn patted the seat beside him on the couch and he joined him happily. “So what's my surprise?”

He pulled the book from the crack between the armrest and the cushion and placed it in Vendras's hands. “ _Mannimarco, King of Worms_.” He read the title out loud. “This is lovely. Where did you get this?”

“You came up in conversation today and Throm suggested it. He had it lying around and said he had no use for it.”

Vendras's expression was like that of a child. “I regret to say I don't know terribly much about Mannimarco. One of the many, _many_ reasons Falion and I left the Winterhold College was because they wouldn't go into detail about him. They were afraid of what people might do with the knowledge. The only thing I really know is that he is the only person to have successfully achieved lichdom. Oh this is excellent! I never could find this biography anywhere. How thoughtful.”

Romlyn nuzzled his husband's neck. “So I take it you like your gift?”

Vendras kissed his head. “I love it. As soon as my head stops hurting, I'm going to start reading.”

“Ven?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you. So much. I hope you know that.”

Vendras became distraught by the sadness behind his words. “Of course I know that. I never doubted that even for a second. I love you too, Romlyn.”

Romlyn wasn't sure why, but he needed that reassurance. “I don't feel like I've been saying it enough lately. Or maybe not hearing it enough. I don't know.”

Vendras clicked his tongue. “Oh, Romlyn. Just because we don't say it every second doesn't mean we don't feel it. We show each other through everything we do. We're growing older together now, and it doesn't mean we feel any differently, we just love one another in a different way, you know?”

It made Romlyn feel a bit better. “Yeah, I don't know why I've been so down, lately. Just...ignore me.”

“I cannot and will never ignore you. You are my adoring husband and you can talk to me no matter what ails you. I'll love you just the same.” Vendras chocked his spouse's ever spiralling state of woe up to homesickness, and he couldn't say he didn't feel the same. The call of Skyrim weighed heavily on his heart. Dunmer he may be, but Skyrim was and will always be his one true home and nothing could change it.

The pair shifted around on the couch to get more snuggly. Vendras groaned from the throbbing pain still rampaging within his skull. “Could I bother you to rub my temples?”

Romlyn maneuvered his body in a way he could reach him and still maintain his own comfort. He nuzzled Vendras gently, soaking in the way his partner's skin felt against the bridge of his wrinkled rabbit-like nose, rough around his scarred cheeks, and smooth by his hairline, a few loose coppery locks tickled him. He inhaled his scent. No matter what, this mer always smelled the same, faintly like incense and lavender. He smelled of home, of open arms, and the physical embodiment of love itself. He rested his cool lips against his husband's pulsating temple, hoping he could channel healing love into him whilst dwelling on the surreality of him, still unable to comprehend that this divine creature was _his_ husband, the man who had willfully chosen to wed him. A tornado of emotion stormed in Romlyn's heart. He combed his fingers through Vendras's hair and used his thumb to tend to the areas that required the light pressure of massage. Vendras hummed in contentment, and eventually Romlyn's delicate touch lulled him back to slumber, snoring softly.

“Feel better, my love,” Romlyn whispered before moving away carefully to allow his husband time to heal.

***

The clang of swords rang against the columns of basalt. Backstep. Parry. Dodge. Roll. Teldryn's lungs burned beneath his ribs, arms growing weaker with every swing, every connection sent a shockwave up to his shoulders. Was his age finally catching up to him after all? It was like all time slowed when his blade slipped from his grasp and bounced with a metallic chime on a rock, then muted as it stuck point first into the dust. The bottom of a foot connected with his belly just beneath his sternum, knocking the wind out of him and erupting in a sickening agony. Before he knew it he was on the ground with the tip of an elven blade at his throat, garnet eyes wide with horror, a Dunmer woman heaving with ferocity and dripping with sweat looming above him.

“Indira?! Indira stop!” Teldryn clasped the blade in his hand trying to force it away from his neck.

Indira snapped out of whatever trance she was in, realizing what she had done, she tossed her weapon aside and fell to her knees beside him. “Oh fuck! Teldryn! I'm so sorry!”

Blood from his sliced palm ran like a sanguine river down his arm. It stung as he stretched his fingers and he winced and bit his lip, trying hard to focus restoration into the wound, which proved difficult with the agony in his gut and lungs, but he managed to seal the wound as glimmering gold ribbons surrounded his injury.

Indira apologized profusely and began to cry. “What have I done?”

“I'll...be...fine.” Teldryn wheezed. “Give me...a...moment.”

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” Indira picked up a rock and heaved it as hard as she could.

In the meantime as the girl released her frustrations, Teldryn closed his eyes, making an effort to steady his breathing. He could have sworn the walls of his lungs were touching. A dull ache lingered in his stomach for awhile. To add insult to injury, sweat dripped into his eyes. It was nothing short of acid, stinging and blinding him out of sheer spite. He pulled his sword out of the dirt and used it to hoist his exhausted body.

“Feel better now?” It came out much more gurgly than he'd intended and he cleared his throat.

Indira shot him a look like he was insane. “No! I nearly killed you!”

He mustered up a weak chortle. “I don't mind. I'd rather you take it out on me.”

“Shut up! Hurting you isn't healthy either.” She linked her arm around his to help him fully stand.

“I need a fucking drink,” she sighed.

He crossed his arms and drawled condescendingly. “Indira.”

“Just a few to take the edge off. I don't ever want to go back to that life. You know that.”

“All right, that's fair,” he agreed. “I understand, girl. You've been through a lot. I think you've been taking it very well, if you want my honesty.”

It made her feel a bit better and she smiled.

“Also,” Teldryn began. “You've been doing phenomenally with these lessons. I can't remember the last time anyone bested me for any reason. Might be something to that 'Nerervarine' blood coursing through you.” He winked.

Indira scoffed. “I'm not related to the damn Nerevarine. Even if I was....just...no! Fuck that. It's all nonsense. Those piles of netch dung just want an excuse to inflate the dowry.”

“Is that what you believe?” His steps were slow and deliberate, as he endured lingering pain.

The girl scrunched her round face. “Knowing what I know now? You're damn right that's what I believe. I mean...even if it was...I don't want to know. I don't want to know what I already do, but I don't really think it matters.”

“Sounds like something humble Nerevar himself would say,” he joked.

“Dammit, Tel! It's not funny.”

“Don't you know me by now, darling?”

It made her laugh anyway. They made for Raven Rock once again, almost like old times.

***

Throm sat alone at his usual table on the lower floor of The Retching Netch, brew in one hand and spoon for his soup in the other, stirring the broth. It was too hot to eat and he found himself tied up in a daydream once more. Romlyn's gorgeous face, those slanted rubies wrinkled up in a smile. Who'd have thought doing something kind for another would have been so gratifying? Geldis stared at him from the bar like he had something on his face. Well, he did actually. A smile. Out of context, it probably looked insane, but he didn't care. It was the nicest he'd felt in a century.

Later on, his girls entered the inn for drinks and meals, and they approached him. “Hello there, handsome.”

“Hmm? Oh, hello.”

“We haven't seen you much lately. Wondered if you were all right.” His absolute favorite prostitute with the wheat-blonde hair and mahogony eyes spoke. Fuck, he could never remember their names and he didn't know why. He supposed it didn't matter really, but he wasn't normally bad with that sort of thing.

The taller of the girls had a purplish hue to her fleshtone, darker than the first, with glossy black hair tied high atop her head and vibrant eyes like heartstones. “Don't you miss us, baby?” She tucked a lock of his hair behind his sharp golden ear.

Arguably, she was the dumber of the pair, which was quite possibly why he liked the other one so much more. In addition, the blonde one had more meat on her bones. The tall Dunmer girl was practically a skeleton and it made for an uncomfortable situation on more than one occasion, but she had a gorgeous slender face with exotic Ashlander tattoos and piercings, marvellous cleavage, and tasted like a fine wine in all aspects. He'd still rather look at her than fuck her, though he wasn't about to be picky about any woman willing to sleep with him; for profit or otherwise. In any case, he did think they were both attractive in their own right.

Likewise, the prostitues found him to be enticing as well. Sex with dusty old Dunmer men all the time got boring quick. Throm was the only Altmer on the island. The Nords that showed up on the cargo ships were a treat from time to time, and rarely some Thalmor soldiers would pass through, but even the whores refused to give them the time of day. Funny that the elitists didn't mind paying coin to shove their cocks into a grayskin, given that they didn't get caught by their peers, the lecherous scum. His girls had more dignity than to allow themselves be abused like that, and he respected it.

Throm was different, like he wasn't even an outlander. He just happened to be gold instead of gray and rose nearly two feet taller than everyone around him. Sadly, it was the mental trauma that led to their adventurous sexual escapades, but he paid them well, and even better still if he thought he'd been too aggressive. He'd never do anything they didn't consent to. The only thing he wanted to do that was forbidden was share a moment of tenderness after he got his rocks off. He came every time, but never felt fulfilled. They honestly felt bad for him, but did their best to show their appreciation for him in the ways they knew how. This was business, not romance.

“You want us to show you a good time tonight, handsome?” The blonde dark elf had a sultry, velvety tone, somewhat deep for a female.

He was a bit embarrassed, and he lied that he'd just spent the last of his gold on his meal. Unfortunately, he didn't even have the money for that. Geldis put it on his tab. The old innkeeper had no fear though. Throm always made sure he paid his dues in full on payday no matter what.

They'd even offered to please him for free, and to his own surprise, he declined.

“You know where to find us if you change your mind, sweetie.”

The high elf supposed he still felt grimy about the incident with Milore. And with Romlyn on his mind, he felt grimier still. Thankfully Teldryn came in to distract him as he took the seat across from him, sans his young apprentice, who had gone home to bathe. Glover still hadn't completed repairs on his chitin helmet, and he had his scarf wrapped around his face and head making him look like a Redguard.

“What happened to your hand?” Throm observed immediately.

Teldryn stretched his fingers wide and then closed them, observing the bloodstained tear in his glove and the scar from where he fused the wound together with magic. “The girl got a bit carried away today during our sparring lessons. She's taking everything really hard.”

“Those people are scum,” Throm stated rather bluntly. It was out of character for him to disparage the ones paying his bills, but he'd been so disgusted by this entire ordeal. And Teldryn yet again got to see the high elf in rare form. “They remind me of my own parents.”

Ah, now it all started to make sense. Teldryn listened to his small monologue respectfully.

“Distant, controlling, unloving. Cruel...” Throm hung chillingly onto the last word. “She'd do better to get away from them, that's for fucking sure.”

“I don't even know what to do,” Teldryn stated hopelessly. “Oblivion knows when another ship will arrive. The girl is madder than Sheogorath. She wants to steal her fiancé's boat when he arrives. Needless to say it's a shit idea and it's not going to go over well. No one else knows how to sail besides those Windhelm Nords.”

The thought of Garyn crossed Throm's mind. Milore said he was on the northern part of the island peddling goods to the Skaal, a small tribe of primitive Nords. The Skaal! Much of their survival relied heavily on fishing. “Teldryn!”

The old Dunmer jumped. He was too envoloped in the meal Geldis just served him at the moment to expect anything loud out of his typically soft-spoken gigantic friend. “What? What is it?”

“The Skaal.”

“Yeah? What about them?” Teldryn raised an eyebrow, his forkful of food suspended in mid air with a few pieces tumbling back to the plate.

“Are you really as dumb as you look? They have _boats_. They know the _sea_.”

The dark elf's fork slipped awkwardly out of the grip of his injured hand and splattered food onto his chitin chestplate. “Thromwatch Aelsinthar, you are a fucking genius. But how are we going to convince them to help?”

He shrugged. “I suppose we'll just have to explain. I know they don't care about the affairs of Raven Rock much, but do you think they'd let anyone hurt a young woman? We might have a fighting chance.”

Teldryn rubbed his chin through the scarf, a few bristles of his beard poked through the fabric. “You might be onto something. I knew you high elves were good for something, I just didn't know what.”

Throm made a disgruntled expression. Teldryn grated on him sometimes with his rampant sarcasm.

“Pack some supplies,” Teldryn rose to his feet. “We're taking a trip.”

Throm sat there, mouth agape. He didn't even have time to protest. Rolling his eyes, he did as commanded. Back in his room, he changed into his ebony armor and took a few moments to restring his bow to ensure it was battle ready.

It took a good few hours to reach the Skaal Village, but the two mer made it without any setbacks. The humble village was quiet now that it was the evening, not that it was much more exciting during daylight. Though they mostly kept to themselves, in the last few years, the Skaal had since erected a place for guests and passing wanderers to stay out of the harsh and dangerous wilderness, so Teldryn sought out this establishment. He was more familiar with the area than Throm having lived on the island much longer. “We'll talk to the shaman in the morning.” He slid a few coins to the Nordic caretaker. The place was small, but they didn't have many guests when they did put people up for the night. The woman offered them the only vacant room they had which contained two beds. Good enough for a few hours of sleep.

Teldryn was entirely too excited to get out of his hot and damp chitin boots after trudging through those rocky hills. His knees ached, his calf muscles were tight. Maybe age was gaining on him after all. Picking on Throm might help him forget he was finally aging.  
  
"Now don't go keeping me awake all night wanking it out to Sourpuss, please." Teldryn said nonchalantly.  
  
"For crying out loud..."  
  
"You do. So keep it down a bit."  
  
Throm slapped his palm to his face.  
  
Teldryn shrugged. "Throm, I don't know why your kind are so hung up on men being together. It's quite natural. Although if I were into men, I'd choose Red if you want my honest opinion." He whistled approvingly.  
  
The high elf shook his head. "Let's not try to turn this into a game of Fuck/Marry/Kill. Can we just drop it please?"  
  
He wasn't irate this time around, rather he sounded truly embarrassed and ashamed, though not because he had feelings for the same sex. "I wish he wasn't married..." he trailed off gently.  
  
The sentiment honestly shook Teldryn. "You really do have it bad for Romlyn, don't you?"  
  
Throm grimaced at first, but his face softened. "What's the point in trying to hide something so obvious? I can't hide anything from you. You see right through me every time."  
  
Teldryn sighed through his nose. "It's because I know you're not _really_ a bastard. If you were, you wouldn't lash out the way you do. Don't get me wrong, getting a rise out of you is entertaining and all, but your reactions help me know who you really are."  
  
"Do you really want to know me that badly?" Throm asked with incredulity and the intention of being rhetorical, but he truly wanted an answer to it.  
  
"As a matter of fact, I do." He had been leaning back on the pillow to relax, but sat up promptly to address his friend directly. "We're away from home. It's just you and me now with no one else to hear, so if you feel safe enough, please oblige. I don't like admitting my feelings either, but I do care about you Throm. You've always been here for me since you got on this rock. I guess this is my way of telling you the feeling is mutual."  
  
Throm's throat tightened, his nose tingled inside. He took a brief moment to calm himself, and he unloaded his feelings onto Teldryn for the first time. "If I may be frank with you, Tel, I...don't remember much." He was stroking the curves of his bow, trying to feel out the inscription with his fingertips but time had worn it down too much to be able to read it. "Someone gave me this. Someone who meant everything to me...I can't remember his face...I can't remember his name. I don't recall what became of him either. I think...I think it has much to do with why I got on skooma in the first place."  
  
Teldryn wasn't sure what to do with the information. It was like talking to a different person entirely, but he did his best to psychoanalyze him and the situation. "You think this person might have been a lover?"  
  
Throm's immediate reaction was to say no, but before blurting it out, he meditated on the notion, thinking back to the faceless tan figure of his dream the night he overdosed. He wasn't just a hallucination. He couldn't have been. "...maybe..."  
  
Alas, he couldn't think of anything else about it no matter how hard he tried to rack his brain, so the subject changed. He told Teldryn about how his parents used to treat him, how his hateful father used to beat him senseless and how his mother allowed it to go on, and all the eery similarities between the behaviors of Edris and Melvosa Andrelo and that of those reprehensible creatures that spawned him.  
  
"Throm I...I don't know what to say."  
  
The Altmer didn't realize how much weight had been lifted from him. In fact, he'd have gladly told the old Dunmer more had he known more about his own past. For the time being, it made him feel ill. He pulled an ornate purple bottle out of his pack without any sense of shame. "Please...please don't judge me, Teldryn. I need this right now I...it hurts too much."  
  
And it hurt Teldryn to see his friend suffering such agony. He didn't want to enable his habit any longer, but he let it slide for the occasion. "I'll look the other way...this time. There's going to have to be a point where you accept reality and don't rely on that stuff anymore to bury your demons and self doubt. You're stronger than you might think you are, Throm. The fact you've gone through all that and made it here... you were already a few steps in the right direction." He released a heavy breath of air. "Indulge now...but I don't want to see it again. I don't want to see you on the brink of death again."  
  
He rolled over in bed, pulling the covers over with him. It was more than the fact he didn't want to see his dear friend drown his sorrows with skooma; he didn't want him to see the infamous Teldryn Sero shed a tear. Over an Altmer, no less.  
  
Teldryn awoke to the sunrise and to his surprise he found Throm awake before him, yet again. He was half way through a whore's bath and partially dressed. As consciousness filled him, the reality of their talk in the night became clear. He was seeing Throm through different lenses now. He yawned and stretched with great exaggeration. "Good morning," he said through a strained stretch, his old joints popping grotesquely all over his body.  
  
"Mornin'," the high elf responded. He was finishing a clean shave and refreshing his warpaint in the mirror.  
  
"So this is Throm's daily beauty regimen, eh?"  
  
He scoffed in response, but found himself grinning regardless.  
  
Teldryn swung his legs to the cool, somewhat gritty floorboards, observing Throm for a moment, his orange gemstone eyes like blood moons reflected back toward him intensely in the mirror, but he hadn't noticed Teldryn was watching until he spoke up again. "How come you wear Bosmeri warpaint?"  
  
"I'm unsure," he replied without looking away from his reflection. "I've been doing it a long time. I can't go a single day without it. Throws me off."  
  
Teldryn's crimson eyes panned to the bow leaned with great care against the edge of the bed. It was truly a work of art as far as weapons were concerned. It was no wonder Throm coddled it as if it were his own child. Then an idea came to Teldryn. "You think it might have something to do with the one who gave you that?"  
  
Throm paused in the mirror looking like a startled fawn, then looked back at the masterfully crafted recurve bow made of rare and exotic wood and ebony. "I...don't know." It was obvious the gears were turning, but he returned to his stance to paint on the final dots beneath his right eye. He ran his fingers through the shaved side of his head to replace the stray strands from the long side, finished dressing, and he was now ready for the day. Teldryn had silently brushed past him to relieve himself in the waste receptacle in the corner, the sound of an unrelenting stream of urine struck the side of the wooden bucket.  
  
The pair were quiet for about twenty straight minutes as Teldryn dressed himself for the day. It still felt strange to do with company, yet at the same time totally organic as if he'd always gotten ready with Throm in the morning. Since he was still sans his beloved headgear, he actually made the effort to style his mohawk, and perked his phenomenal coal black crest like a peacock's fanned out tail. The tattoos on his face, chest, and arms gave him a sinister, almost criminal appearance. However, to Throm he resembled a wealthy person's ugly lapdog with a silly hairdo.  
  
He put on his shirt and made to assemble his chest piece. He could do it easy now that he wasn't injured, but Throm jumped in and helped anyway without him asking.  
  
"I used to be in the Morag Tong," the Dunmer said out of the blue. "That's my dark secret. That's why I've hidden my identity for so long. Now we're even."  
  
Throm responded only with a closed-mouth smile.  
  
"I don't want to be specific but you can imagine some of the things I had to do. Things I'm none too proud of."  
  
Throm, unfazed by this revelation, responded with sarcasm. "Wow, so you are really old then?"  
  
Teldryn burst into a laugh, and they laughed in unison before meeting with the village shaman. The locals pointed them in the direction of the shaman's hut where they discovered a strong looking woman scrying a fire and humming a Nordic chant. "Greetings, elf-friends," she said in a thick accent, nodding at each of the mer. "I am Frea, the leader of this village. How may I assist you?"  
  
Teldryn swallowed before he spoke. He didn't think he'd have this much trouble asking someone for help. "It's a bit of an unconventional issue," he began, then paused to clear his throat before continuing. "The ships have been down in Raven Rock for months now, and we are in need of someone who can safely navigate these waters, that is if you're willing to spare them."  
  
"What is the purpose for your need, little elf?," she asked. Unlike the "tamed" Nords of Skyrim, she meant no ill will in her tone.  
  
He knew it was going to sound bad spoken out loud, but he did it anyway. "We need to help a friend escape from Solstheim."  
  
The woman's vibrant blue eyes pierced him like a cold steel blade. "Forgive me for assuming, but that sounds potentially criminal in nature. "  
  
Teldryn, always the one to do the talking, actually became so nervous he didn't know what to do. Throm stepped in to speak for him.  
  
"It's not what you may think, my lady. We are caretakers for a young woman in Raven Rock, and we've just received news that she is arranged to be married to a wealthy stranger. Among other things. We are to believe the possibility of a threat and we want to get her to safety."  
  
Throm's words baffled Teldryn. He had no idea he could be such a skilled orator. He'd actually never heard him speak so many words at a time until this day.  
  
Frea frowned in thought. "I have to be sure I put my people first. I don't have any desire to risk one of our boats or mariners, as that may set us back for the winter. Who is to say you're not planning on abducting this woman yourselves?”

It offended Teldryn to a most irrational degree. “I wouldn't waste my time to walk all this way to ask if I wanted to do that! I'd have done it already!”

Throm grabbed the irate elf by his shoulders. “Teldryn, please calm yourself. I understand your frustration, but don't take it out on her for being cautious.” How bizarre to have their roles reversed.

His chest puffed up, his shoulders heaved, and he trembled with rage. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry, you're right. Forgive my reaction.”

Frea took in a deep breath. “I can sense your desperation. However, in order to trust you, I'll need to know the entire story. We'll make decisions from there.”

The elves took the time to explain Indira's situation in detail, and to their surprise, this shaman took pity upon them, truly disgusted by the thought any girl would have to go through that. It was much too specific not to be true. “I will trust you, elf-friends. However, I would like to meet this woman so I may speak with her myself, if that is no trouble for you. While I believe you mean well, it seems like you are making decisions for her. A bit counterintuitive, if I may say.”

“If those are the conditions, then that is what we'll do. Though our time is limited.”

“I understand,” said Frea. “If need be, perhaps she could take refuge here for a time. I'd be more than happy to hide her here. No one would expect it. If that is what she decides,” she added.

Throm turned to Teldryn whose face was distorted in a contemplative state. “What do you think, Tel? It's not a terrible idea to hide Indira here until we get the transportation figured out.”

Teldryn licked his dry lips. “Let's get her. The sooner the better.”

After thanking Frea profusely, the elves returned to the guest hut to retrieve their belongings before their return to Raven Rock. Teldryn scrambled around to gather things and Throm stood and watched until the Dunmer realized he was staring.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

The tall elf took a sympathetically deep breath in. “I've never seen you like this. You don't need to rush. It's not going to set this in motion any faster. So quit scampering around like a skeever for a moment and just breathe.”

Teldryn threw his pack on the floor aggressively and plopped onto the bed. “Look at me, I'm frantic.”

“I know,” Throm said. “And you need to take it easy on yourself. We'll get Indira to safety. I promise you this.”

“I never thought I could care about anyone this much.” It was an admission to himself more than a statement to Throm.

“You're practically raising her, Tel. Of course you're going to get attached. I care about her too. Let's take it slow and steady back to the bulwark. We can't have you distracted like this or you're going to start making poor decisions and endanger yourself.”

The Dunmer's eyes were fixed on a swirling knothole in one of the floor planks. “This 'feeling' thing is fairly new to me, Throm. If there's one thing I miss from my stint with the Tong was the discipline. I'm forgetting my training.”

“You left them for a reason,” Throm spoke softly. “Aren't you always the one telling me it's healthy and acceptable to express emotion? And yet here you are battling yours.”

“Who even are you right now?” Teldryn retorted sardonically.

“Ugh,” Throm rolled his eyes and hoisted his knapsack and quiver onto his shoulders. “Forget I even said anything. Let's head home.”

The northern region of Solstheim was actually rather hospitable during the spring and summer, and the pair were thankful to not have to trudge through knee deep (Throm's knees) snow. A scene caught Throm's attention just as they reached the edge of the village. A middle aged Dunmer man and a young, blonde haired Skaal woman hid tucked away amid some trees, the man's gray hand trailing up her pale inner thigh beneath her dress, and their lips fused together in a vicious and aroused session of kissing.

“Isn't that Garyn Ienith?” Teldryn asked, but Throm had already marched a few paces in the naughty couple's direction. The monstrously large Altmer startled the Nordic woman before Garyn realized he was there and she bolted out of that thicket with a fright. Garyn, displeased by this intrusion, began to complain until he saw exactly who was standing before him. Before he knew it, he was picked up by the front of his shirt, and Throm's beefy fist met with the dark elf's eyesocket. It bruised almost immediately, and he surely broke his skull. Throm was so pissed, he could have sworn the world around him was tinged red. It was no wonder Milore was so desperate for intimacy, while her husband was up north “selling produce” to the local girls, practically children by elven age standards.

“You slimy prick,” he huffed, his heart thumping wildly.

Garyn, now on the ground, writhing and moaning in pain, cradling his consistently swelling face in both his hands. There was no excuse to make. He had been caught in the act.

Throm gifted him with a single merciless kick to the gut, causing him to retch. “By the way, since you clearly can't be bothered, I fucked your wife.” He left them to lie there in his own vomit and self pity.

Teldryn attempted to ask what that was all about, but Throm snapped his fingers and pointed to the trail that would lead them out of the village. “Let's go.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More problems arise for our heroes. I know what I want, but I don't know how to get there, so thanks for the patience! I had to rewrite because I started this chapter on a bad note between Vendras and Romlyn that was really out of character, and I hated it so much.

Romlyn kept busy scrubbing Severin Manor to immaculate proportions. He tended to be compulsive with his projects and would not stop until they were perfect. Which often made Vendras anxious. The incessant sounds of bristles on the stone, swishing back and forth, back and forth began to grate on him. “Sweetheart, why don't you come relax? There's not going to be any floor left if you keep rubbing it like that.”

Romlyn spoke between breaths, having overexerted himself with work. “I'm sorry, Ven. I can't leave the Dragonborn's home a mess.”

“I don't think it's ever been a mess since we got here. Not under your strict authority, at any rate.”

“Don't be silly, Ven,” said Romlyn, hoisting himself up with his knee, which popped loudly as he stood. “I got this, you have your book. By the way, how are you enjoying it, if I may ask?”

“Oh I love it!” Vendras spouted. “Not only is it biographical, but the narrative is written in an elegant form of verse. Also, this particular edition contains an extra volume of Mannimarco's account. I knew of him, of course, but I can't say I was well-informed due to the, dare I say, _questionable_ teachings of the College.”

“Guess that explains why you never mentioned him.”

“This is simply fascinating...” Vendras ignored him as he handled the pages of his new book with deliberate care. “He became a lich. A damned _lich_. Remarkable...”

“Is that a lump forming in your pants?” Romlyn joked.

Stupidly, Vendras looked down at himself. “What? No!”

Romlyn chuckled at him.

Vendras, obviously a bit embarrassed cleared his throat. “ _Anyway_...while the College doesn't frown upon necromancy _per se_ , whereas the Mages Guild does, they still limited what we could study. I wasn't able to get my hands on too many valuable writings in order to strengthen my skill. I've mostly been self taught.”

Even though he had been teasing his husband, Romlyn tilted his head, truly fascinated by him. “All that stuff you do, you learned on your own?”

“Mostly, yeah.”

“And you've already come so close to unthinkable abilities raising the dead.”

Vendras's pewter cheeks and ears flushed burgundy with flattery. “Oh, sweetheart, please. I'm nothing important. I'm sure there are plenty of others.”

Romlyn shook his head in disapproval of his husband's disparaging remark toward himself. “Nah. None. Not a single one of them are like you, _yi daelha_. I've never heard you doubt yourself like this before.”

Vendras sighed heavily. After he failed his promise to the Shatter-Shield family, sometimes he felt like giving up. Poor Friga fell on the backburner while his life took a drastic turn. He didn't blame meeting Romlyn, of course, but he'd become so distracted that it all seemed like inadequacy on his part. Between his new lover and the incidents with his father and with Maven Black-Briar, so much time he could have been figuring it all out, wasted. No. Wasted wasn't the correct term. Vendras loved his husband dearly and he loved the strange little life they had made together. It was so much better than his life of solitude and he was quite thankful. It took Vendras a few moments of spiraling into his own remorse to realize Romlyn had been standing very still and staring at him.

“Forgive me,” he responded to his worried look. “I have this book now, it may help give me some ideas. Perhaps I've just been lacking in stimulation.”

The thought that he might have been too dull for him intruded upon Romlyn's mind. It was true. Vendras always had his nose in books, and for awhile he'd been so busy working to maintain their household and tending to his spouse that his passions and dreams fell to the wayside. _I'm holding him back._

Both Dunmer jumped at the sudden sound of heavy pounding on the front door. Stumps spun in anxious circles at the entrance while Romlyn made to carefully open the door. Outside stood Edris Andrelo accompanied by a pair of Redoran guards. He wore a mixed expression on his stretched face, one that even Romlyn had trouble reading.

“ _Serjo_ , is something wrong?”

“The girl!” Edris huffed frantically. “Is she here?”

“Indira?” questioned the fair-haired elf. “Heavens no. I haven't seen her.”

“What of Teldryn and that golden son of a bitch?”

Romlyn didn't appreciate the rudeness. “I don't know. I haven't seen them either. And they're not here. So if you don't mind, we'd like to get back to our duties.”

Edris attempted to force past Romlyn, but he underestimated the small man's strength. A flame ignited in Romlyn's palm. “You'd do best to back it up, _serjo_. I don't know where your daughter is and I don't know where Teldryn and _Throm_ are.”

“Romlyn, snuff the flame,” Vendras pleaded uneasily as he rushed to quell the altercation. “Master Edris, we don't know where they are, but I can assure you they're not here. Now if you'd like some help searching, we'd be happy to assist.”

Edris took a moment to compose himself, running a gangly, veiny hand through his neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair and smoothing his fine garb. “Forgive my overreaction,” he wheezed. “I'm just worried about Indira. I'll leave you to your business.”

“If we see her, we'll let her know you're looking for her,” Vendras added as politely as possible, though given the circumstances he was suspicious.

Edris nodded and he and his guards turned around. Romlyn pulled his fist back to strike, but Vendras yanked him back inside by the nape of his shirt. He closed the door and pressed his back to it with an exasperated “fuck.” After calming himself, he addressed his husband. “Romlyn, you need to hold yourself together. Those are the most powerful people in Raven Rock.”

“I don't care. He was rude and intrusive. He had no reason to talk about Throm like that. Then try to come into our home?”

Vendras wiped away the sweat that had beaded on his brow on the back of his sleeve. “I think that's the least of our worries right now. Indira is missing? Teldryn and Throm are nowhere to be found? I'm sure the guards are searching. They probably think they kidnapped her.”

“What should we do?” Romlyn asked.

“First thing's first, we need to find out if they're going to be arrested should they return. I'm willing to bet on that.”

“How do you propose we do that without looking suspicious ourselves?”

Vendras straightened out his ponytail. “We'll figure it out. Let's just go out for the time being, we'll grab some fruit from the market, nothing off about that. We might be able to gather something. Word travels quickly in a small settlement. We'll leave Stumps with Geldis for awhile just in case anything happens. He'll understand.”

After gathering potential necessities, the couple entered the bar in the center of Raven Rock with a purpose. To their delight, they were presented with the information they required. “Greetings my most favorite patrons,” Geldis welcomed warmly. “Can I get you the usual today?”

“Actually,” Vendras began. “Something has come up and we were wondering if you could take care of Stumps for us for awhile.”

The dumpy reptile made an approving sound as Geldis was already hunched over vigorously patting the creature and using baby-speak on him. “I'd be honored. I used to live on a guar farm way back when.” He'd reached for a bowl of ash yam peelings and other scraps and placed it on the ground for Stumps to munch, then rose back to speak to the husbands. He lowered his voice to just above a whisper, just quiet enough no one around them would hear. “Look...if this is about the missing girl, or Throm and Teldryn, you have nothing to worry about from me. I had a feeling something was going on with the Andrelos since they arrived here. I don't like them. Edris stormed in here not long ago making all kinds of demands. He even searched the place. I didn't want to cross him, so I let him. I know the mercs are your friends. If you go looking and the guards happen to nose about, my lips are sealed.”

Vendras and Romlyn looked at each other and nodded. Geldis never gave them any reason not to trust him. One major part of being a great barkeep was maintaining the trust of his patrons. “Is there anything else you might be able to tell us?” Romlyn asked.

Geldis looked around nervously to be sure no one was in earshot. “I can tell you that Teldryn and Throm have been gone for a bit. A day at least. The girl went missing just last night. I don't believe her disappearance is related to them. It was meant to be hush hush, but I overheard a guard speaking that there is in fact a bounty on their heads—dead or alive.” The way he drew out those last words was eerie and foreboding.

Vendras's stomach sunk. “Do you have any idea where they may have gone?”

Geldis shrugged apologetically. “I wish I knew. I don't even have a direction. If they turn up here, I'll handle it. You do what you need to do. Speak no more of it.” He slid them both mugs filled with water as a front to serving them, and instructed them to drink to keep up appearances. “Come on, Stumps. Help me in the kitchen, boy.”

“Shit!” Romlyn uttered, as he wiped the water from his lips. “What are we going to do? We don't know where they could have gone.”

Wringing his hands, Vendras put in some thought. “It would not be wise to go searching in unfamiliar territory. We already found out the hard way that the island is dangerous. Though I don't want to risk waiting for them to return, either. They don't know they're in trouble if they come home.”

Romlyn was biting his lip anxiously. “Indira. What do you think became of her?”

“She did what any young woman in her situation would have done I'm certain; she ran away. Darling, we don't know enough about the situation to be proactive. Let's be vigilant, but we shouldn't do anything out of the ordinary for now.”

Romlyn bent back to gain a better view into the kitchen one last time at Stumps, who was having a blast with Geldis throwing him treats. “You're absolutely right. I just don't want them to get hurt.”

A smile curled onto Vendras's lips. Romlyn's compassion was showing loud and proud, whether he wanted it to or not. He looped his arm through his. “We'll keep an eye out for them, _daelkhun com_.” Romlyn gave him a short kiss, briefly distracted from his woes by his kindhearted husband. “I love when you speak Dunmeris. You're doing quite well with it.”

Vendras pulled him close and kissed his head. “You're a good teacher.”

He smirked. “A bad influence, more like.”

“Okay, so I only know a few _certain_ words. And you love it.”

Romlyn laughed and they left the Retching Netch. They remained within in the vicinity of Raven Rock's bulwark, on the lookout from all sides for any signs of the return of their friends.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character development, bonding, feelings, frenemies, thickening plot. The pace should be quickening now.

Teldryn shuffled lazily through the ash, ache climbing from the arches of his feet up through his knees and into his hips. He cursed as he tripped over a trama root. “I wish there was a silt strider around here,” he whined.

Throm who was unfazed by walking long distances, even in his heavy ebony armor, lead onward. “Poor Dusty has been on her deathbed for years. I wouldn't make her overwork herself in her retirement.”

“Don't remind me that the pleasantries of my past are becoming distant memories. Can't believe she's the last one.”

Throm didn't like his sorrowful tone. “Not necessarily. Look at Stumps. We thought the guars of Morrowind were all gone too, but here he is.”

“Perhaps.” It did happen to fill Teldryn with some hope about the fauna of his homeland. Though he still had trouble coming to terms with this foreign, kind Throm. He actually quite enjoyed the conversation. “What kinds of creatures do you have in Summerset?”

“Well...,” the tall elf paused to sneeze and sniffled to clear his nose of irritating sulfurous ash. “We have some common wildlife you may be familiar with like farm animals, birds, deer, sea creatures, and the like. Some daedric beasts, of course. They're everywhere. We have gryphons. It's like a lion-eagle hybrid type creature. In my home city of Alinor, the military uses them as mounts. And indriks. Deer-like creatures with antlers and somewhat difficult to describe to an outsider. Quite majestic. You'd have to see for yourself.”

“Interesting. In Morrowind, we have giant bugs and reptiles,” Teldryn laughed.

Throm smiled. “You know, you talk about Blacklight an awful lot. Why don't you describe it to me?”

“Oh my,” chimed the flattered Teldryn. “I thought you'd never ask. Blacklight is nothing short of _spectacular_.”

“So I've been told,” he remarked.

“The city itself is seated on an inlet from the Sea of Ghosts, nestled in an almost dome-like formation of rock spires from mountains. On an island in the center is the Rootspire, where all the Great Houses meet to discuss their politics and economic endeavors. You know, upper class stuff.”

“I know all about it,” Throm scoffed. “My family was exceptionally wealthy. Andrelo wealthy.” He rolled his eyes in disgust as he said it.

“Bit crowded though,” the old Dunmer added. “Would go back in a heartbeat.”

“Why don't you if you miss it so dearly? It's not terribly far from here.”

“I...don't really know. I guess that Tong stuff keeps me from going home. Anyway...what about Alinor? What's that place like? I can only imagine the many gaggles of smug Altmer.”

It made Throm laugh. “You're not entirely wrong. At least in the district I lived in. I made it a point not to spend a lot of time there. In fact...well I can't really remember what I did?” He paused, gingery brows furrowed in deep contemplation draped over his ember-like orange eyes. Teldryn could see he was struggling.

“Don't worry about that,” he encouraged. “Describe the city itself.”

“There were vast gardens, many of which tended to by Bosmer botanists, understandably so. Gorgeous. The streets were lined with cherry trees. When they blossomed in the spring, it was so pink it would make you physically ill—but in a good way. With the petals raining down in the pools and the fountains, so...”

He stopped again. Why did that feel so familiar?

“Throm?”

He cleared his throat and got back on track. “The buildings reached high into the heavens like long, skeletal fingers, the stone of all the structures sparkled in the sun and there were prismatic structures that reflected rainbows in the light.”

“It sounds so peaceful. Not like Morrowind at all.”

“No, not in the slightest. It was nice to look at and all but...”

“But what?”

“I don't know...my mind is such a blur.”

Teldryn shrugged. “We had our reasons to leave our beloved homes, I guess.”

“Yeah.” Throm thought of his parents. How he hated them. But what was he running from that he ended up so far from home?

The silt muted the elves' steps as they at last came upon the bulwark in the near distance. Just below the columns of basalt, they saw Edris and a small troupe of guards. “Hold on.” Throm held his hand behind him to stop Teldryn from moving forward and he nearly stumbled into him. “Look at that.”

“Edris rarely leaves the house,” Teldryn glared suspiciously, then his garnet eyes widened with fear. “Do you think something happened to Indira?”

“I don't know, but I have a bad feeling in the pit of my gut. We should avoid the guards for now.” Throm's instincts told him they were being hunted. He didn't understand why he felt that way, something else that seemed strangely familiar to him. He decided it best to err on the side of caution.

“Red and Sourpuss might be able to tell us something,” Teldryn suggested.

“Fuck. There are guards at every entrance. How will we get down there without being seen?”

The Dunmer tapped on Throm's massive arm. “Follow me. We'll take this upper path behind these trees and climb down the basalt columns behind Severin Manor. They shouldn't see us up there. Gods, I hope those two are home.”

“You have the advantage that no one will recognize you without your helmet. I stick out like a sore thumb!”

“It will be fine. This way.”

The way was rocky and uneven, but they eventually made it. Teldryn scoured the area for patrolling guards before they took the basalt pillars down. Some were fashioned like steps, so the descent proved much easier than they anticipated. They huddled up against the rear wall of the manor to plan the next step.

“Now comes the tedious part,” Teldryn sighed. He seemed more annoyed than worried. “We have to make it to the door without being seen and pray to Azura that they answer.”

Throm crawled up to the front to peek around the sides, his knees were aching from crouching so low. “We're clear, from what I can tell.”

Teldryn had one more trick up his sleeve, if he could remember how to do it. He closed his eyes and focused deep within himself for power. When he opened them again, he looked around for the auras of living beings. The closest ones were in the center of town. They might be able to make it. “Knock on the door. Quickly.”

Throm followed his instructions and Teldryn slinked up to the place he formerly stood. The glowing auras of life were beginning to fade, and his heart pounded faster.

Romlyn was the one to answer the door. Before Throm could make a sound he yanked him inside with a surprising amount of strength. “Get your ass in here, now!” Teldryn hurried inside behind him and Romlyn closed and locked the door, fumbling with the latch a bit with nervous tension. “Massive balls of Molag Bal! You're lucky you haven't been skinned alive. The guards are on the loose and I hear there's a big hit out for both of you right now!”

“I figured as such,” Throm said. “We snuck back into Raven Rock. What's going on?”

Vendras had rushed upstairs to find out what the commotion was. Romlyn already began to explain that Indira was missing and about Edris's unwelcome visit. The wanted elves in turn told them about their trip to the Skaal village in their efforts to seek out a way for Indira to escape safely and secretly on a boat with their navigators, the only caveat being that she herself needed to speak to the leader of the village.

Teldryn, once again in rare form, paced up and down the room, rationalizing aloud to himself. “No, she wouldn't go to the shack, it would be too obvious. She's smarter that. _N'chow_! Why would she do this? Why now, when we found a solution?”

Throm was sitting at the table, the beverage the husbands offered him sat near his hand, completely untouched. “Hang on. Tel?”

“What?!” his response was needlessly loud.

“Neloth.”

“What about that dusty old netch fart?”

“Think, you _s'wit_. Doesn't he have a ring that could find people when they were nearby?”

The old Dunmer paused, scratching nervously at the overgrowth of stubble on his neck. “Thromwatch Aelsinthar, you clever bastard! I could kiss you right now!”

Throm merely stared at him.

“But I won't,” he added. “Shit. I wonder if he still has it. Of course he does. It's useful.”

The other three elves watched with concern as he spoke to himself. He ceased his mad ramblings once he noticed them and his long ears flushed burgundy.

“Getting you back out of town safely is going to be a problem,” noted Vendras.

Teldryn slammed his fist on the table. “And I still don't have my fucking helmet!”

“In your defense, you're less recognizable without it,” said Romlyn.

“I still like to protect my noggin, Sourpuss.”

“Round two for sneaking people out late at night, I suppose,” said Vendras, glancing at his husband.

“You've done this before?” Throm raised an eyebrow.

“It's a long story,” Vendras replied. “I hope the Dragonborn doesn't mind if I borrow a few things for the alchemy lab. And easier with a lab instead of a cooking pot.” He grinned at his husband and he shrugged in response. Vendras rummaged through satchels and cupboards and found everything he needed, then huddled over the table, crushing ingredients with a mortar and pestle, heating and boiling them. Even without the alembic, he was always very skilled with making a pure concotion, but these tools made the job even easier, and he'd have perfect potions brewed in a pinch.

Throm stood by to observe his process, which was slightly nervewracking, but it seemed like he was trying to learn more than lord over him. Moreover, the big elf himself seemed uneasy. “You're good at that,” he said out of the blue to break the ice.

“I know a thing or two. It's not the best, but it's a good recipe to know. Comes in handy more often than not.”

“Clearly,” Throm coughed to clear his throat. “You said you had to do this before? What happened, if you don't mind my asking?”

Vendras pursed his lips, debating if he wanted to say anything or not. “Well, I suppose it won't hurt to tell you. Romlyn got into a little bit of trouble awhile ago and I needed to sneak him out of Riften back home.”

Throm vocalized a sound of genuine intrigue. “What did he do?”

Vendras chuckled, realizing how silly it would sound out loud. “He ran a bootleg operation of his boss's mead.”

“You had to sneak him out of town for _that_?” the high elf asked incredulously.

Vendras shrugged, and tapped on the glass of the alembic to dislodge excess bubbles. “It wasn't just any mead. It was _Black-Briar_ mead, that's the difference.”

That name carried weight in Skyrim, and Throm had only heard rumors of how wretched that family was from merely passing through, though he was otherwise unfamiliar. Based on what he knew about the innate corruption of wealthy families, he didn't doubt Vendras.

“Maven Black-Briar used me as leverage and to threaten Romlyn and he panicked. I was more worried about him than for myself. She'd have done anything to make him suffer. So I helped him skip town. Then everything else...”

“Everything else?” Throm raised an eyebrow yet again. He was already on the edge of his seat, of course he wanted to know more.

“It doesn't matter,” Vendras retracted, realizing he'd said too much.

“Oh come on Red,” he begged almost playfully, a peculiar and new behavior Vendras hadn't yet seen from him and honestly didn't know how to take.

He couldn't hold back his grin. “Perhaps another time. For now we need to worry about finding Indira.”

Throm chewed on his cheek in disappointment. He deeply desired more knowledge about Romlyn, and he felt warm when he caught himself thinking about him again, uncomfortable that it was right in front of his husband in fear that Vendras might be able to read his mind. He changed the subject right away. “So how are you liking your new book?”

“It's astronomical!” Vendras spouted rather enthusiastically. He toned it down a bit before he continued. “I've been looking for that edition for ages.”

“Romlyn told me you study necromancy so I figured you'd like it. I...I don't do any magic. It never really interested me enough. I know it's 'weird for an Altmer.' Nothing I haven't heard before...”

Vendras turned to look at him. “I'm not judging you, Throm. You should do the things that make you happy and not worry so much about the expectations of others.”

Throm's throat felt tight, not having expected such an insightful observation, though Vendras was very bright. After all the misery he'd put him through, and he still managed to maintain his altruism, like Vendras knew him better than he knew himself. It overtook Throm with guilt and shame. Yet not strong enough to verbalize an well-deserved apology for treating these wonderful beings with such malice.

Vendras popped a cork into each of the four phials of invisibility draught he had brewed.

“There are four bottles?” Throm questioned.

“Of course there are. Romlyn and I are going with you and Teldryn,” he stated affirmatively.

“You don't have to do that. It's dangerous.”

“Nonsense. We're in this together. Besides that, we're not going anywhere anytime soon, it looks like.” Vendras was still bothered deeply by his inaction during the Ash Spawn encounter. This time he'd make up for it.

He gathered the bottles of serum and went upstairs with Throm trailing behind to the dining room table where Romlyn distracted Teldryn with a traditional Dunmeri card game. And Romlyn was winning.

“You little _fetcher_! You're cheating!” Teldryn exclaimed.

“I'm not cheating, I'm lucky! It's all chance. How could I cheat? You're just a sore loser.”

“I have never lost a game in all my life!”

“First time for everything!” Romlyn grinned wildly.

“GENTLEMEN!” Vendras raised his voice boldly to get their attention, causing them both to shoot a look in his direction in surprise. “The invisibility serum is ready. One sip from your bottle should allow for a good few minutes of the effects, so we can get away from Raven Rock rather efficiently and still have some left for emergencies. We leave at nightfall.”

The elves prepared and supplied themselves adequately for the return to Tel Mithryn. Teldryn was still bickering to Romlyn about their game of cards. “Your insanity rivals that of Sheogorath. Come off it already,” Romlyn grumbled irritably. He left to make sure everything in the house was taken care of before they embarked. He wished he could say goodbye to Stumps at the Netch, but it was unwise to take any risks. The little guy was most likely having a blast with Geldis and eating table scraps.

While he was gone, Vendras came up just beside Teldryn bent over slightly to whisper in his ear. “By the way, he did cheat. He does it all the time.”

Teldryn gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. “That sneaky little shit!”

Vendras laughed. Once the crew was all together, he went outside with a bucket to make himself appear busy in case a guard passed by, which they did on occasion as they patrolled the streets. He didn't see any torchlight coming from either direction and he waved his friends on. The other three sipped their potions while Vendras locked the door, and then he followed suit. The easiest way out of town was in the direction of the Earth Stone, a peculiar monument that looked like the former construction had been abandoned on it for years. Once beyond it, they would be out of the sight of the Redoran guard, and they could head east. No doubt they'd upped security with Indira missing, but Vendras had a good feeling that they would be fine, and they had enough potion that they could vanish long enough to escape should they get caught. Teldryn lead the way once they were out of the vicinity. “More walking. Hooray.”

“If you want to stop to rest at some point, I'm not opposed,” Vendras offered.

“No. We'll rest when we get to Tel Mithryn. Neloth doesn't get any say on the matter.” Teldryn trudged through the ash in long quick strides.

The other three shared a concerned glance between them and moved onward to try to match his pace. In a few hours time, they'd reached the fungus citadel of Tel Mithryn with minimal issues with ash hoppers, but thankfully no encounters with reavers, werebears or ash spawn. Teldryn waltzed straight to the door on the uneven mycelium root path and without even making an attempt to knock, helped himself inside and traveled up the levitation pad. Throm went next, and Vendras held onto Romlyn as they floated up, knowing it gave him motion sickness.

“Neloth!” Teldryn shouted loudly without any regard whatsoever.

“Oh what on Nirn is—oh it's _you_.” Neloth flounced out of his enchanting area.

“Master Neloth, what's going on?” Talvas rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his knuckles as he rolled out of his bed, barely conscious enough to even be talking in the first place.

“Go back to your beauty rest, Talvas. Everything's fine.” Neloth expressed his annoyance very nasally. “What is it that you could possibly want at such unreasonable hours, _Teldryn Sero_?”

“I need your tracking ring. Do you still have it?”

“Of course I do. Why should I lend it to you? And where is your damned head gear? Have you gone insane?” He'd only just noticed he was looking him directly in the bare face, but there was more to it than that, like there'd been a history between the two of them that neither of them wished to ever bring up again.

Teldryn responded in the only way he knew how. “I'm trying out a new look. Dammit Neloth, do you have it or not? I'm honestly quite desperate.”

“You're always _desperate_.” Neloth snorted with disdain. He rummaged through his desk drawer anyway in search of his ring, never truly intending to deny Teldryn access. Objects clashed around inside making sounds of glass and metal. He greeted the others with a contrasting attitude. “Ah, Thromwatch. It's good to see you.”

“Master Neloth,” the Altmer gave a shallow but courteous bow.

“And the curious couple. Back so soon?” His tone was oddly affectionate towards them, an exceptionally rare form for the wizard. The rest of the time he spent mumbling to himself until he found what he was looking for as he scrounged through the drawer. “Ah, here it is.” He made to put it into Teldryn's hand, and pulled it back dextrously with his bony wrist as he made to reach for it. “And for whom are we searching, Teldryn Sero?”

“My ward, the Andrelo girl from Raven Rock.”

“Indira? What did you do to scare her off?”

“Neloth can you please stop being a prick for a hot second? I happen to care a lot about her. She could very well be in serious danger.”

“You? Caring about something? I find that difficult to believe.” Neloth's words varied scathingly in high and low tones.

Teldryn's temper fired off like Dwemer pistons. “I will punch you in your smug wrinkled Telvanni face so hard I'll erase your entire lineage.”

“No need to waste your time, the Red Mountain already took care of that.”

At his wit's end, Throm stepped between them, “You two shit for brains, cease this nonsensical bickering at once or I'll pummel you both!”

Neloth smoothed out his robes with his gangly hands and clasped them behind his back, though not to be proper; he simply didn't want to unleash a torrent of arcane hellfire on his uninvited guest.

Talvas snored loudly from the room nearby, undisturbed by all the disarray.

“By the Daedra, I need to fix that boy's sinuses. He sounds like a damned sawmill. Anyway, take the accursed thing. You know how it works. Now get out of my abode.” He slammed the ring into Teldryn's palm.

“We're resting here before we depart,” Teldryn said firmly. His face was still flushed with anger. The others weren't so sure it was the best idea.

Neloth's eyes narrowed to slits. “You enter _my_ tower, the one _I've_ grown with my very own hands, and just think you can make _yourself_ at home?! Whatever...don't make a mess or I'll melt your skin off your bodies.” The wizard disappeared to return to whatever activity he happened to be partaking in before the party burst in on him.

Vendras and Romlyn couldn't make heads or tails of anything that transpired. Throm took a seat in the nearest chair and rubbed his aching head, and Teldryn helped himself to a bottle of strong wine from the shelf. He only drank in excess when he was beyond the point of stress, and apparently Neloth had an innate ability for pushing his buttons.

The old mercenary drank alone for awhile and the rest unraveled their bedrolls in the places they deemed most comfortable. Throm was about to toss his down when he realized just how close he was to the husbands' personal space. He packed up to move. “You can stay here if you want to,” Romlyn said. “We don't bite...well. We might...”

It was an inside joke regarding Romlyn's former vampirism that Throm didn't get, but an obvious joke nonetheless, and it made the Altmer's heart jump as the invasive image of Romlyn clamped onto his own neck startled him. “Um no. You both deserve your privacy. I'll just...I'll just make my nest elsewhere. Plenty of room.”

Besides that, Throm was well aware they wanted to keep a close eye on him due to his addiction, but after the day he had, he really needed it. He curled up by some barrels where he was certain he would not be seen and indulged in a sneaky sip, simultaneously loving and hating the sensation as he always had. After what seemed like an eternity of basking in the effects, he scooched his way around the barrels to take a peek at his friends. He didn't expect them to do be doing anything out in the open as they were, and it wasn't what he was looking for, but Romlyn weighed heavy on his mind again. He simply had to see him. And there he laid, nestled so sweetly in the arms of his much larger husband Vendras. They were already blissfully asleep. Even young Talvas's incessant snoring in the near distance had a bit of a soothing cadance to it.

Romlyn snored lightly as well, like a cat on a hearth, his chest rising and falling delicately with every tranquil breath. His head was just beneath Vendras's chin, and they fit together perfectly. Throm wished so badly he could trade places with him. How truly blessed he was. How blessed the two of them were, really, to have one another. Vendras was a lovely and kind soul. Exactly what Romlyn deserved. Throm could never be half the man Vendras was to him.

He wallowed in their sweet serenity for awhile before gulping another mouthful from his skooma bottle. It was best not to dwell, so he slid back behind the barrels to refrain from creeping. The floor of the mushroom tower was strangely comfortable, somewhat spongey and retained warmth quite well. Throm stretched and rolled over, when he caught sight of another scene—one he didn't expect, especially after the previous altercation.

Teldryn sat at a table beyond the central opening for the levitation pad, suffering from a fit of tears, a fresh wine bottle in hand, and stationed across from him was Neloth, his posture rather rigid for a being over seven centuries old. He'd draped his large hand over the top of Teldryn's other hand, enveloping it entirely. The gesture didn't outwardly appear romantic, but an act of consolation. The pair were speaking softly, but Throm could only hear the chattering of their whispers. It may have began with Indira, but developed into something else entirely.

“It's none of my business,” Throm thought to himself, remembering their mutual respect for one another's dark secrets. It didn't stop him from wondering what kind of pain he was going through. Teldryn was nothing like him. He had no crutch, nothing to suppress it. Just bottled it all in. Somehow it just seemed worse to him. Not to mention Teldryn had a few hundred years on Throm. He may have joked about calling him an old man, but he honestly wasn't too far behind Neloth. Neloth had been around for nearly every major catastrophic event that Teldryn lived through, and then some. The old Telvanni wizard may have been desensitized to most things from his sheer amount of life experience, but he certainly wasn't completely devoid of compassion. There were many times he'd forget he wasn't the only person in the world, though. What a lonely life. Mer lived long lives, but enough was enough, and he was sure both Neloth and Teldryn surpassed that stage in their lives eons ago.

Throm's heart broke for Teldryn. The horrors he must have gone through when he was an assassin. Throm hated killing and death. Protecting oneself was one thing, but the thought of actually hunting a living person with a family and loved ones...it chilled him. Goosebumps formed on the back of his neck as he pondered it. Teldryn wasn't a bloodthirsty murderer, he couldn't have been. The feral viciousness reared its head from time to time, though. That little mer was a force to be reckoned with and Throm never wanted to be on the wrong side of his blade.

Not to mention the Red Mountain catastrophe. No doubt he lost many loved ones in the disaster, coping with his loss with dark humor and sarcasm, a terribly tragic being.

Throm took one final look at Neloth and Teldryn, who were now wrapped up in a tight embrace. Teldryn sobbed into his robes, his crest of ebony-black hair a disheveled mess that Neloth did his best to smooth and comb back into shape with his knobby fingers, though it was the affection and intimacy of his touch that Teldryn desired most. The old bastard a heart after all. Both of them had been suffering far longer than Throm had been alive. There must have been good times...at least a handful, right? Throm only knew suffering. He pitied these elder elves even more if they had felt the way did currently for the majority of their extensive lives.

Throm turned away once more and recited a quiet prayer to Mara to bestow all his companions with strong wills and much love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May or may not be alluding to another author's romance. ;)


End file.
